For I Am A Wicked Child
by horseface
Summary: Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.
1. The Only Constant In The Universe Is Cha...

For I Am A Wicked Child

Horseface 

***CHAPTER ONE***

_The only constant in the universe is change_

Draco Malfoy looked up from the book he was reading and sneered. He was in the Slytherin common room where Crabbe and Goyle, who had no interest in literacy, were sitting on the floor happily eating handfuls of Cockroach clusters, occasionally making approving grunting noises. Draco rolled his eyes in disgust, before slamming his book shut, then walking back to his room. As he slammed the door behind him he felt glad that he had persuaded his father to get him his own private room. Draco required his personal space and besides, having to spend time with those goons Crabbe and Goyle was bad enough, without having to share a room as well.

He cringed at the thought as he took a seat on his bed. 

The year was almost at an end, with two weeks left to go and Draco was bored out of his mind. Ever since last year, when that Hufflepuff boy died, life at Hogwarts had become very different. There was still a somber tone in the air and everyone was a lot more serious nowadays. The fact that Voldemort had risen again wasn't helping the situation either. The teachers were a lot stricter, always keeping an eye out on everyone, which meant it was harder for Draco to get away with things that he would've considered fool proof in the past. Visits to Hogsmeade were considered risky so students were very rarely allowed to go out, not to mention that only those who were 5th year or older could go. For Draco, everything was becoming so routine now, so mundane… so utterly and mindnumbingly boring. Even mocking Harry Potter and his friends was beginning to lose its appeal.

The only mildly interesting thing that had happened this year was the division of Slytherin house. Now that Voldemort had risen again some of the Slytherin students, who happened to be Deatheater's children, were more open about their support. Many students discussed their excitement of obtaining the dark mark and becoming a death eater, claiming they would rid the wizarding world of any impure blood. However, all these conversations were merely inaudible whispers that quickly disappeared in the dank dungeon air, since the head of Slytherin house, Professor Snape, was openly against Voldemort. It was his attitude towards Deatheaters and You-Know-Who, which kept some of the Slytherin students quiet as to whether or not they shared the same sentiments as their "up-with-Voldemort" peers. 

But a house divided against itself cannot stand, and Draco had often witnessed members of Slytherin coming to blows with each other. As one of the more respected students of Slytherin, Draco had never been involved in these fights but at times he felt conflicted. He was all for the idea of getting rid of mudbloods and muggleborns, but then… wouldn't that also mean getting rid of Voldemort too? Draco fell back onto his bed, his silvery blonde hair falling into his eyes. In all honesty, Draco thought most of the Slytherin students were idiots anyway, so he really didn't care whether they decided to tear themselves apart over something as stupid as who was going to be the first of them to join Voldemort's ranks.

As he blew his hair out of his face, something on his bedside table caught his eye. Draco turned onto his side, and picked it up. It was a letter, from his father. He'd received it earlier that week, but couldn't be bothered to open it. He stared at the back of the envelope, his hand tracing around the indigo wax seal, with the letters LM stamped onto it. His father's initials. Draco turned back to the bedside table, and pulled a letter opener out from one of the drawers. Slicing the letter open, he made sure to break the seal with his father's initials on it completely. He pulled the letter out, and carelessly tossed the envelope to one side. He sat up as he began to read what his father had written,

_Draco, _

_This is to inform you that this year, we shall be spending the holidays at home. I have something very important to tell you._

_Your Father,_

_Lucius Malfoy_

  
  


Draco read the letter twice. Blunt and straight to the point. It was as if his father was right there. Draco scrunched the letter up in one hand and threw it across the room; he'd get Goyle to clean it up later. Draco lay back down on the bed, with one arm behind his head, and the other resting on his chest. Holidays at Malfoy manor were always so dull. His mother would, of course, throw several excessively dreary dinner parties with half of the upper class wizarding society in attendance. His father used these opportunities to discuss business with many of the most rich and powerful wizards in Britain, some of whom, Draco knew for a fact, were Deatheaters. Although he would've enjoyed being involved in these gatherings, his father was a very private man, so Draco was never permitted to engage in any of his father's social activities. In fact, Lucius was so secretive about some aspects of his life, Draco wasn't entirely sure whether his father supported the dark side or not. 

The only fun Draco ever had at these events was when Crabbe and Goyle would attend. Draco liked to lead them around the manor, before ditching them, leaving them completely lost. When they managed to find him again, they were always extremely angry with him, but Draco was always able to convince them that it was their own fault they got lost. They always believed anything he told them. "Anything I tell them …" pondered Draco, as he recalled what else was in the letter, "Father said he has something important to tell me… father tells me important things in his letters to me all the time. Unless… it's something he can't mention in fear that someone else might read it…" Knock Knock. Draco broke his train of thought and scowled. 

"Who is it?" he snapped. 

"Me," said a gruff voice. 'Goyle,' thought Draco.

"Well what do you want then?" said Draco, irate. 

"Uh… we've got Advanced Transfiguration in 5 minutes."

Draco raised an eyebrow. Goyle never remembered when he had classes. Something was up. Draco stood up from the bed and strode over to the door. He yanked it open to find Goyle… standing with Pansy Parkinson. 

"Hello Draco," she smiled. Draco smirked.

"Hello Pansy," replied Draco in mock interest. " How are you enjoying using my friends for your own benefit?"

Pansy laughed. "Well, I really didn't want to bother you Draco."

"So you got Goyle here to do it instead?"

Pansy shrugged and looked at him from underneath her long dark lashes, smiling. 

Pansy Parkinson was one of the few people Draco could consistently tolerate. Ever since second year, his father encouraged him to spend time with her, seeing as Draco and Pansy's father were good friends, not to mention the Parkinson's were also obscenely rich. However, Draco was somewhat reluctant, as his first impression of her was that she was just like every other girl that came from a rich wizarding family, vapid and shallow. Not to mention she'd formed an attachment to Draco, a kind of infatuation bordering on psychotic. However in the end, he'd agreed, but only under the condition that his father get him on the Slytherin Quidditch team by buying Nimbus 2001's for the whole team. Not that it helped, Slytherin had still lost the Quidditch cup that year, and his father had refused to buy him any new brooms, until he managed to win on his Nimbus. 

Fortunately for him, Pansy hadn't turned out to be as bad as he'd originally thought. True, she _was _like every other rich girl out there, but with a twist. She had a cruel streak in her, and not just petty bitchiness, but definite sadistic qualities. They weren't as malicious as Draco's, but still vindictive enough so that one could easily draw similarities between the two of them. More intellectually stimulating than Crabbe and Goyle combined, Pansy provided Draco with someone to talk to when he wanted to discuss a subject that was more complex than food. But she wasn't so smart that she could get the better of him and that was fine with Draco, who loved having power over others. 

Pansy took a small step forward, placing one hand on the door frame and resting her head against it. 

"Want to walk me to class?"

Draco looked back at her with his pale blue eyes.

"Goyle, get my books." 

Taking Pansy's arm, the two of them began to make their way to class.

Draco had already been sitting in Advanced Transfiguration for a few minutes, when Harry Potter and his "groupies", Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger came in. Granger sat down with Neville at the front of the class, while Weasley and Potter took the desk next to them. In front of Draco. Draco smirked and shook his head. He'd never come across a bigger bunch of wankers in his life. Harry Potter was the leader of the group, and the worst of the lot. Ever since first year he and Draco had been sworn enemies. Aside from the fact that they were in rival houses, they wouldn't have gotten on anyway. A while ago, Draco had figured out that Harry didn't like him because he wasn't a "nice person," unlike Harry who was everyone's hero. Which, conversely, was why Draco hated him. Because, everyone loved Harry Potter. Harry, the hero. Harry, the goddamn saviour of the wizarding world. It made Draco sick… not to mention the fact he'd never won a Quidditch match against him.

Everyone had always assumed, that because Draco hated Harry, he hated Granger and Weasley as well. In all honesty, Draco had never really cared about either of them. Sure, it pissed Draco off when Granger, the Mudblood bettered his scores academically, and it was _always_ annoying whenever Weasley would try to be a hero and stand up to Draco. But when it came down to it, Granger was just some swotty mudblood who could memorize facts, but was almost hopeless with a wand and Weasley was just some poor boy clamouring for attention and status. Draco didn't hate them. Disdainful indifference was more like it. 

"Bloody hell," said Ron, as he rummaged around in his book bag, "I've forgotten my quill. You got a spare one Harry?" 

Before Harry could reply, Draco let out a short bark of laughter.

"Forgotten your quill Weasley? More likely you couldn't afford one."

Ron scowled. "Shut it Malfoy, or I'll shut it for you."

Draco smirked. "Go ahead… I dare you." 

Ron narrowed his eyes at him, and got to his feet, searching through his robes, ignoring Hermione who was telling him to sit down. Just as he pulled out his wand, and pointed it at Draco, who watched him with boredom, McGonagall's stern voice cut through the air. 

"Mr Weasley!" 

Ron brought his wand down, and Draco merely folded his arms, smirking, as Professor McGonagall approached them. 

"Would you mind telling me what you were doing, brandishing your wand at Mr Malfoy?" 

Ron lowered his head, and shook his head, 

"Nothing… professor." 

"Then perhaps you should _do something_, like putting it away and taking your seat. Class is about to start," she said, with a firm expression.

Ron gritted his teeth, as he sat down, shooting a glare in Draco's direction. Draco replied with his trademark smirk, and he heard Harry try to calm Ron down by saying, "Forget it Ron. It's just Malfoy. He's not worth it, let it go."

Draco rolled his eyes, as he watched Ron nod in agreement. If they hadn't been in a classroom at the moment, Harry would've pulled out his wand along with Ron, and would've hexed him three ways to Sunday. Gryffindors were such hypocrites. As McGonagall begun her lesson on changing an inanimate object into an animal as equally dull as the original object, Draco turned his head slightly to spot Granger scowling at him, bearing an uncanny resemblance to the Weasel.

Draco tilted his head slightly and slowly mouthed the word "_Mudblood_," before smiling maliciously at her.

Hermione blushed and quickly turned around, her bushy hair whipping around her head. True, teasing the three 'Gryffindorks' wasn't as fun as it used to be… but it was still fun. Draco grinned to himself, and then proceeded to go off in his own world, blocking out the sound of McGonagall's voice.

Spacing out seemed to be the only way Draco managed to get through the final weeks of term. He would have believed it was impossible, but somehow Professor Vector's Advanced Arithmancy classes had become even more tedious and Professor McGonagall's voice had turned into one long drone, that drilled into the back of Draco's skull during Advanced Transfiguration class. By the time the end of term dinner came around, he was so relieved the school year was over, that he kept his sneering to a minimum when it was announced that Gryffindor had won the house cup, AGAIN. 

As Draco slipped back into the Slytherin dungeon, where the house members were getting into their end of year party, Pansy ambled up to Draco and placed an arm around him. 

"So… Draco, we probably won't be sssseeing each other mussh during the holidays since I'm headed off to Greecey Weecey." 

From the slur of her words Draco could tell Pansy was half way pissed. He'd seen her like this a couple of times before and she'd always ended up coming onto him. Just like she was now, wrapping both her arms around his neck and staring up into his eyes, smiling drunkenly. 

"Will you missh me, Dwaaco?"

Instead of answering, Draco asked, "How much have you had to drink Pansy?"

She giggled, hiccupping a few times. Obviously, a lot.

Draco smirked.

"No, I won't miss you Pansy. At all."

Pansy giggled again. "O-k!"

Draco rolled his eyes before pushing Pansy off, and walking past her as she lay sprawled out on the floor, laughing at nothing. Pansy was all right, but she was such an idiot when she got drunk.

Draco didn't see Pansy the next morning, assuming she was lying in bed with a dreadful hangover, courtesy of the previous night. In fact, Draco was one of the few Slytherin students who managed to get up in time for breakfast that morning. Despite most Slytherin students having similar personality traits; cunning, shrewdness, a tendency towards the darker side of wizardry, a high tolerance for alcohol was not one of the more common ones. As everyone boarded the Hogwarts Express at Hogsmeade station, it was obvious that most of the Slytherin's were still recovering, snapping at anything and everyone, much nastier than normal. Due to this, the journey back to London was very quiet, with everyone in the Slytherin carriages sleeping. The rest of the school sensibly kept their distance, and scuttled away hurriedly at the mere glimpse of green and silver.

As soon as the train had pulled up to Platform 9 ¾'s, most of the students hurried off the train quickly, glad to be back home and glad to get away from the Slytherin's. As Draco stepped off the train, he looked around the platform before quickly spotting a tall man with silvery blonde hair, resembling his own. Draco turned to Crabbe and Goyle, who were looming behind him, and quickly nodded goodbye, before making his way over to his father. 

"Father," 

"Draco."

Lucius Malfoy always spoke softly, but he was always heard. He rarely raised his voice, but Draco knew it was because he felt people should listen to him, instead of bothering to get their attention. 

"I trust that your journey was comfortable?"

"It was bearable," replied Draco, knowing that his father didn't really care.

"Your luggage has already been taken care of as per usual. Now, if you'll follow me," said his father, turning on his heel.

Draco obeyed, and quickly fell into step beside his father. There was silence between them, as they approached a stagecoach, bearing a large M engraved in gold on the door. It was the Malfoy family's personal stagecoach, and it was a lot more elegant and luxurious than the ones they had at Hogwarts. Draco and his father climbed inside, and at once, the carriage began to make its way to Malfoy Manor. 

"Glad to be going home, Draco?" asked Lucius, as the carriage traveled through vast landscapes of lush countryside scenery. Draco nodded in reply.

"Yes, father. That excuse for a school was becoming unbearable."

Lucius stared at Draco for a moment, before looking out the window and casually saying, "Hmm. I suppose that's why Slytherin house lost again this year?"

Draco bit his lip. Lucius had been a former Slytherin himself, and Draco knew he wouldn't be pleased to hear that Slytherin had continued their amazing losing streak on for another year. He scowled. 

"It wasn't our fault. Not with that old geezer Dumbledore playing favourites among the houses, supporting those stupid Gryffindor goody two shoes. Honestly. Hasn't the nutcase ever head of retirement?"

Lucius smirked. 

"Well, you won't have to worry about him anymore," he said smoothly, still looking out the window. Draco raised an eyebrow at this. Knowing his father… he didn't know exactly what Lucius meant. Especially from THAT sort of remark. Before Draco could question him, his father turned to face him and said, " We received your O.W.L results." 

Draco looked away, unable to maintain eye contact with his father. The results from his OWL's weren't supposed to be known for several weeks, but no doubt his father had pulled some strings at the ministry to receive them early. Education was something considered important in the Malfoy household. For the past couple of years, his father had been... less than pleased with him since he was never at the top of his class, always outdone by Granger. He looked back at his father, who was still staring at him, no emotion showing at all. 

"And?"

Lucius reached into his pocket and pulled out an already opened envelope, before gracefully tossing it towards Draco. He said nothing as Draco reached into the envelope and slipped out a single piece of parchment. Draco hesitated for a moment, glancing at his father, who was staring back at him with those cold blue eyes. Turning his attention back to the parchment, he unfolded it and took a look. A series of O's stared back at him. 

Full marks. 

He glanced back at his father, whose face was still a mask, but his eyes were less frozen. 

"You came first in your class. Not even that silly little mudblood girl managed all O's."

Draco smirked, "She is a silly little mudblood isn't she?"

Lucius nodded. 

"Can't say I'm surprised about your results. After all…it's in your blood. The fact that a mudblood like her can do so well is quite a shock, I must admit. Hogwarts really has gone to the dogs," he said, with a slight tone of disgust distinguishable in his voice, before glancing out the window.

"Ah. Finally. We're here."

Draco glanced out the window and was admittedly glad when he caught sight of the large, stone walls and iron gates of Malfoy Manor in the distance. As soon as the carriage stopped on the dusty path in front of the manor house, he climbed out quickly, and while waiting for his father, he took a quick look around. The Manor was just as he remembered. Flowerbeds running along the path and around the house, containing Dittany, Puffapods and Alihotsy. Chilean rose Tentacula vines crept up the sides of the unyielding dark stone walls, and across the archway that led to the back of the house. Draco broke his gaze away from the manor, and looked over his shoulder. His father emerged from the stagecoach, and paused for a moment to straighten his robes, before making his way to the house. Draco followed his father through the large marble pilasters leading to the heavy wooden doors and inside. He had barely stepped into the entrance hall, when he caught sight of his mother, Narcissa Malfoy, coming down the central staircase. 

"Draco darling," she cooed, before walking over to him and wrapping her arms around him. 

"Welcome home," she said holding him at arms length, looking up at him. Over Christmas break, Draco had come to find that he was almost the same height as his father now, and a lot taller than his mother. 

"It's been far too long." 

"Indeed," he replied. 

His mother went on to ask him a series of mundane questions like she always did whenever he came home from school, and Draco gave her the same old answers. As she began to banter on about his outstanding O.W.L results, Draco almost rolled his eyes at her. Unfortunately for Draco, his mother was indeed like every other wealthy woman who had gained her fortune from her family or husband. Dull and annoying. Just when his mother was beginning to compare his marks to children from other families, Draco interrupted her.

"I'm sorry, but you'll have to excuse me Mother, it's been a long day, and I'd like to get some rest before dinner." It wasn't a complete lie. His journey had taken so long, that the sun was already beginning to set and Draco was starting to get irritable.

"Oh, of course darling. I understand." 

Draco smiled politely, "Thank you." 

He turned towards Lucius and bowed his head slightly, before making his way up the staircase and to his room.

KNOCK KNOCK. 

Draco's eyes slowly opened. 'What time is it?' he wondered. As soon as he had gotten to his room, he had lay down on his bed and quickly fallen asleep. 

KNOCK KNOCK. 

Draco ran a hand through his hair, letting out an aggravated growl. Storming across the dark wooden floors, he pulled open the door to reveal… nothing. 

"Um…" 

A small voice squeaked up from the floor, and Draco looked down to see a pathetic looking house-elf wringing its hands. Draco leaned his hands against the door and glared down at the house-elf, before raising his eyebrows impatiently as if to say, "Well?" 

"… Um… young m-m-master Malfoy is requested for dinner."

Draco straightened up and nodded to himself. 'So it's dinnertime then. Better get dressed.' Draco quickly turned back into his room and slammed the door shut, hitting the feeble house-elf in the face and sending it head over heels.

When Draco reached the dining hall, he found his father and mother waiting for him already, occasionally taking sips from goblets of wine. 

"Ah, Draco darling," said his mother, as he took a seat at the table. "You look well rested." 

Draco merely nodded; he wasn't really in the mood to talk. Just as Draco had sat down, a small bowl filled with what looked like Creme de Chou-Fleur Iseult à la Bretagne soup appeared in front of him. Before Draco could reach for his spoon though, his father cleared his throat, which meant he wanted everyone's attention. Narcissa placed her spoon back down on the table and Draco sat waiting to hear what his father had to say. 

"A few weeks ago, Draco, I wrote you a letter, telling you I had something important to tell you," said his father, bringing his hands together and propping his chin on them. 

Draco noticed his mother look away uncomfortably, and she started to fidget with the sleeves of her robes. 

"Yes, I recall you saying that," replied Draco. 

"Well, with… certain events that have taken place during the past year, I have decided that perhaps now is a good time for change." 

Of course, his father could only be referring to Voldemort's return. Draco's eyes narrowed questioningly. 

"What exactly do you mean by change?"

His father crossed his arms, resting them on top of the table, and looked straight at Draco. "At the beginning of the next school year, you will no longer be attending Hogwarts." 

"Why not?" 

His father gave him a small smile. "Because you will be transferring to Durmstrang."

  
  


  
  


  
  



	2. Something To Look Forward To

For I am a wicked child

Horseface

***CHAPTER TWO***

Something to look forward to

Draco did a double take, as his father's words registered in his mind.

 "Durmstrang, father?"  

Lucius leaned back in his chair and nodded. "That's right." 

Draco looked at his mother, who was strumming her fingertips on the table. 

"You agreed to this mother?"  

Narcissa took a deep breath. She would not meet Draco's gaze as she said, "It's in your best interests." 

"She's right," said his father, taking a sip from his goblet, "An education at Durmstrang will prepare you for the future." 

Draco stared at his father quietly. " Or more specifically… a future as a Deatheater." 

Draco sensed his mother tense up in her chair, but his father merely sat there before saying "Yes. That's correct."

"A little presumptuous of you, wouldn't you say?" said Draco, raising his eyebrows at his father. 

His father brought his hands together and leaned forward, "I have been given no reason, Draco, as to why you wouldn't become a Deatheater."

Each word was drawn out and chosen deliberately, as to make Draco uncomfortable.

"… Unless…" continued his father, " You would care to enlighten me now?" 

Draco remained silent. He knew a lot of people who would've jumped at the chance to become a Deatheater, but there was something about it that really didn't appeal to him. Acting as a lackey for some psychotic megalomaniac, who had been defeated by Draco's archenemy a few times now, just didn't seem to be what it used to be. Granted, being a Deatheater worked for Lucius, but then again, Draco wasn't his father. Lucius was still waiting for a reply, staring at him with those pale blue eyes. Those ice cold eyes.

Draco broke away from his father's gaze. 

"Nothing comes to mind."

 Lucius smiled coldly.

 "Good."

He took one final sip from his wine, before standing up from the table. "We will discuss details when it is time. Now, if you'll excuse me…" 

Draco stared at his soup, as his father marched out of the room. He looked over at his mother, who stared at him, emotionless, before beginning to eat her soup. For the rest of the meal, only the sound of clinking from the cutlery and goblets was heard amongst the heavy silence. 

          Draco spent most of his vacation preparing for his transfer to Durmstrang. He could usually be found reading language dictionaries, brushing up on his Bulgarian, despite having argued with his parents that he spoke many languages fluently, Bulgarian included. Around the middle of his vacation, his father took him to Diagon Alley. They stopped by Flourish and Blotts to pick up his schoolbooks, but since Durmstrang focused more on the Dark Arts, they spent a fair amount of time in Knockturn Alley. The last place they visited was Madam Malkin's robes for all occasions. Although Draco got new school robes every year, he had to be measured earlier than normal. Seeing as it was so cold in Bulgaria, the robes had to be made of fur, and they took much longer to make. Madam Malkin was taking a long time to take Draco's measurements as well, and Draco was slowly growing more impatient by the minute. Glancing into the full length mirror in front of him, he saw his father Lucius patiently standing behind him, watching Madam Malkin fiddling with her pins and measuring tapes. 

"Make sure it fits," commanded Lucius, "I'm not going to pay for poor quality robes." 

Draco watched as Madam Malkin flushed at his father's insinuation. From his father's reflection in the mirror, it was easy to see why people became nervous in his presence. His posture gave the impression of royalty and when combined with the self-assured upward tilt of his head, Lucius was a natural born leader. It was hard to see him as a servant to anyone else, even if it was Voldemort. A sudden movement from Madam Malkin caught Draco's attention, and he looked away from his father to see that she had pricked herself with a pin. Unconcerned, Draco looked in the mirror again, this time at his own reflection. The more he looked, the more he tried to discern the difference between his father's reflection and his own. Although they were incredibly similar aesthetically, there was something missing in Draco's appearance. Lucius exuded power, while he was still a boy. Draco's mouth tightened, silently scowling at his thoughts. He glanced back down at Madam Malkin, who was cradling her hand. The pin must've struck deeper than Draco had originally thought. He shifted slightly on his footstool. 

"Careful," said Draco, "Don't get blood on my clothes." 

Madam Malkin blinked twice, visibly taken aback by his comment. Rising to her feet, she called for one of her assistants to finish up with Draco, before scuttling off to wrap her bleeding finger. Draco took a look in the mirror again and for a second his father's and his own reflection combined, showing only one face looking back at him. He blinked and took a closer look, but each face appeared on it's own again.

When Draco wasn't preparing for school, he spent most of his time flying on his broomstick, practicing his seeker skills. After, four years, he STILL hadn't been able to win a single game of Quidditch against Potter, the natural born seeker. It was so frustrating for Draco that even if Potter broke his arm, he'd still manage to capture the golden snitch. Draco had always been a good flyer, but when Flint had first put him on the Slytherin team, he didn't realize that Draco would've been a better chaser as opposed to seeker. However, after years of playing in that position, it was too late for him to be anything else. For the remainder of the holidays, Draco could usually be found in the fields behind the manor house, swooping and swerving, often practicing late into the night. He still hadn't managed to get the hang of the 'Wronski feint,' he either pulled up too early, or too late. 

A month before the new school year was to begin, his mother threw one of her social dinners. Among many prominent wizarding families, the Goyles and the Crabbes were there. Seeing as Draco couldn't stand any of his mother's parties and his father still refused to let him listen to any of his conversations with other wizards, the three of them had gone into the fields behind Malfoy Manor, where they were proceeding to hex any wild rabbits that ran through the field. There was so much magic surrounding the manor, that it was impossible for the Ministry of Magic to tell if there was any, say… illegal underage hexing going on. At the moment, Crabbe was trying to use the 'Incendio' curse on an owl that was hooting at him, when Goyle said,

 "Hey Draco, are you going to Durmstrang?"  

Draco nodded.

"… but that means… you won't be going to Hogwarts anymore." 

Draco rolled his eyes. "Oh well done, Goyle. Nothing gets past you, does it? " 

"How come you're going now?" 

Draco was silent.

"Hey Draco, I said 'How come…"

"I heard you… Goyle," interrupted Draco, still not answering the question.

"How come you didn't tell us then? We could've transferred with you."

 Draco let out a sharp bark of laughter. 

"I highly doubt it. Durmstrang has a certain level of standard, and 3 O.W.L's just doesn't cut it."

 He was referring to Goyle's pathetic exam results. Goyle scowled. "Are you making fun of me?" 

Draco stared coldly at him. 

"Yes," he replied simply. 

Goyle's scowl faded for a moment, before returning. 

"Well… don't." 

Draco looked at him blankly, before turning and quickly using the 'Petrificus Totalus' curse on Crabbe's owl. It fell to the ground with a thud, it's eyes still wide open. Draco turned, his wand aimed at Goyle. He watched, as Goyle's eyes widened in fear, and smirked. 

"All right then." 

Goyle took a step back, as Draco walked past him and back up to the manor. Goyle stood there for a second before motioning to Crabbe, "Come on, then." 

Crabbe started to follow, but then went back to where the owl lay. He picked it up and frowned, before hurling it a good 50 metres away. 

For the next few days, Draco had thought about the conversation he had with Goyle. Although it was mostly inconsequential, it had started Draco thinking. Attending Durmstrang, he would be leaving Crabbe, Goyle and Slytherin behind him. It meant starting a new school year without anyone backing him up. Starting a new year unguarded, in a school that was renowned for it's lessons in the Dark Arts, wasn't something he was comfortable with. Draco tried to find a solution to it, but weeks later he still hadn't solved his problem, (other than practicing his hexes), and school was about to start in 2 days. He was still thinking about this, over his last dinner at the Manor, the evening before he and his father were due to leave for Bulgaria. 

"Draco darling…"

 Draco glanced up to see his mother looking at him worriedly. 

"Is something the matter? You seem distracted." 

Draco shook his head. "It's nothing."

"Draco… you must learn to lie better," said Lucius, from the head of the table. 

"To survive in this world, it's a skill you must acquire," he continued, still eating his dinner. He raised his goblet to his lips, pausing to say, "Among others…" before taking a drink.

 Draco said nothing, and turned back to his plate. Narcissa was still looking at him anxiously, 

"Draco darling… are you sure you're alright?"

 Draco looked up and nodded, "Why would anything be wrong?" 

"Because… I do worry about you," 

"Don't trouble yourself mother. You know I'd tell you if I had any problems." 

Narcissa smiled, relieved. "That's comforting to know Draco. It really is. " 

Draco forced a smile at her, before turning to his father. Lucius smirked and gave Draco a small nod of approval. He went back to eating his dinner, feeling better.

AN: Short chapter… but I wanted to get through his vacation quickly, so that I could finally 'start' the story.


	3. In A Place So Far Away

For I am a wicked child

Horseface

***CHAPTER THREE***

In a place so far away 

Draco was, reluctantly, awaken early the next morning by the Malfoy house elf. An hour later, he was ready to leave and the house-elf was ready to be hospitalized. The sun still had not risen, when he walked down the stairs to the entryway of the manor, where his father was already waiting for him. The battered house elf, which had brought down Draco's luggage for him, quickly scampered off and brought him his cloak and gloves. Draco showed his gratitude with a kick softer than usual, before he and his father got into the Malfoy stagecoach. Once they were inside, the stagecoach began to rise from the ground. Slowly it rose, until Draco could quite clearly see the top of the manor and the fields behind it, before it set off on its way. 

          The journey to Bulgaria was silent, punctuated only by small nothings of conversation. When the carriage finally landed, the sun had been in the sky for several hours already. Peering out the window, Draco saw they had landed on a small dirt road that was surrounded by fog. The carriage continued to go forward, drawing closer to the edge of a large forest where the road was blocked by fallen trees, overgrown weeds, and what looked to be some form of devil's snare. Draco looked back at his father, who seemed completely aware of this and not in the least bit bothered by it. As they drew closer to the forest, Draco knew he shouldn't be worried, but couldn't help be wary of the devil's snare. The last thing he wanted to do was get strangled to death on the day he was supposed to start school. The carriage was so close now, in reach of the hostile plant, when it suddenly recoiled. Draco watched with interest, as all the plants moved out of the carriages way. It revealed a dimly lit dirt road, with enormously tall trees lined neatly on either side. As they continued down this road, Draco saw the faint outline of a clearing at the end. They drew closer, and soon enough the outlines of people started to come into view. 

The carriage came to a halt when it reached the clearing. As Draco leaned over to open the carriage door, Lucius stopped him. He looked at his father, who was wearing an expression of utmost seriousness. 

"Be mindful of your actions Draco. This isn't Hogwarts," warned Lucius, "Everything's different now."

Having said that, Lucius pulled the collar of his cloak tighter and moved past Draco to step out of the door. Draco stayed behind for a second as his father's words settled in. It was typical of his father to tell Draco something as obscure yet important as that the minute before he was expected to carry it out. He faintly shook his head and straightened the sleeves of his robes, pushing his father's advice aside for the moment as he exited the carriage.

The small clearing was populated with people, most wearing heavy fur cloaks, which wasn't surprising considering how cold it was. Draco especially could feel the chill in the air, seeing as how his cloak wasn't nearly as thick as he'd like it to be. His father however, didn't seem to mind. Lucius quickly signaled some people over to take Draco's luggage. Draco watched idly, as they made their way through the dense fog and soon came to the realisation that this clearing was actually the bank of a very large lake. His luggage was taken over to one of six very large wooden ships, that all had white sails bearing a large D in blood red. Just past the ships, Draco could just make out the shape of a few snow-covered mountaintops. 'So that's where Durmstrang is…' he thought. 

"Draco."

 Draco turned back to his father, who was not by himself. Lucius motioned to the man that was standing next to him. "You remember Mr. Grigori Tamas?" 

'Vaguely' thought Draco, who recalled the time they had briefly met when he was 6 years old. He nodded, however, and politely smiled. Mr. Grigori Tamas smiled back. It was similar to Draco's father… less calculating, but equally rigid. 

"How do you do, young master Malfoy?" he asked, with a thick Slavic accent. 

"Very well sir," replied Draco automatically. 

"Good to hear." 

Mr. Tamas then turned behind him, gesturing for someone to come over. 

"I'm sure you both remember my son, Nikolas?" 

Draco glanced behind him, to see a young boy around his own age walk towards them. His large dark fur robe dragged across the ground. Upon reaching them, he pulled back his hood, revealing his face. Draco recognized him; he had accompanied his father that time Grigori had visited the Manor. Although Draco didn't think much of Nikolas at first, since his mother had forced him to keep Nikolas company, Draco had actually ended up getting along quite well with him. So well that Draco had decided not to leave him trapped in the basement with the boggarts as he'd initially planned. Nikolas looked quite different from when Draco had last seen him, but Draco supposed that was because he was a lot older, not to mention he had hair back then. Currently Nikolas' head was shaved, leaving only a dark shadow from where his hair was slowly growing back. Combined with the high collar of his robes and hollowness of his cheeks, Draco thought he looked like a punk. Lucius seemed to be thinking the same thing, and was smirking patronizingly at him. Nikolas turned to Grigori, and replied in the same thick accent, 

"Da, father?"

His face was blank, but Draco saw that he was annoyed from the way his green eyes darkened. 

"Nikolas, I'm sure you remember Lucius Malfoy,"

Draco noticed Nikolas' eyes grow slightly wider at the mention of his father's name. Lucius smirked, "Hello Nikolas," 

"… Hello sir," 

Draco rolled his eyes. Wherever they went, everyone seemed to know of Lucius Malfoy. Grigori turned to Draco,

 "And this is his son…"

Nikolas nodded, "Ah… Draco, right?" 

Draco forced a smile. 

"Right." 

He turned back to his father, who nodded at him before turning to face Grigori. Grigori turned towards the boys.

 "If you'll excuse us, we have other matters to attend to. Nikolas, I shall see you soon." 

"Da, father."

 Grigori looked at Draco, "Good seeing you again Draco."

"As well as you," he replied.

Draco turned to his own father, and nodded. 

"Father." 

"Draco." 

Lucius nodded in reply, before turning to Grigori. As they walked off, Draco was left with Nikolas. Nikolas tilted his head to one side, slightly looking up at Draco.

"Well. Draco Malfoy. It's been a while."

Draco smirked. "Just not long enough."

Nikolas laughed, his warm breath mixing with the frosty air, to create a translucent fog in front of his mouth. "You always did have a dark sense of humour, Malfoy."

"What can I say. It's a gift."

Nikolas returned Draco's smirk.

"It's something all right. Come on."

Draco had no choice but to follow him, as they made their way through a crowd of people, before stopping in front of two other boys. 

"Hey!" he shouted in Bulgarian. 

The two of them turned towards Draco and Nikolas. 

"Hey Nikolas," said one of the boys.

"Who's that?" asked the other, gesturing towards Draco.

Before Nikolas could say anything, Draco interrupted. 

"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." 

The two boys glanced at each other, looking surprised and interested, before turning back to him. Nikolas shook his head, smiling. He turned to Draco and said, in English, "Draco, this is Damek Breton."

He gestured to the first boy, who replied with a nod,

"And this is Ivan Ambrus."

Damek stared at Draco coolly, before saying, "Hello." 

Ivan gave him the once over, taking in the sight of his light clothing.  

"You are not cold?" he asked in heavily accented English. 

"No. Why, should I be? Just because you are?" replied Draco snidely, in perfectly articulate Bulgarian.

Damek and Nikolas exchanged looks, snickering. 

"Let's go," said Nikolas, still shaking his head. "Everyone's starting to board the ships. He looked at Draco. 

"You might not be cold," he smirked, "but I am."

He turned around, and the four of them quickly made their way up the gangplank to the nearest of the six ships, heading for Durmstrang.

"So Draco, tell me…" began Ivan, "Why did you transfer to Durmstrang?" 

Draco paused, remembering his father's advice on being cautious. Despite the fact he was now going to a school where students specifically transferred to study the dark arts, bragging about being a future servant for Voldemort didn't seem to be the smartest move. Placing his arm on the back of his chair, he rested his head on his fist and with a casual wave of his hand, he replied, "Because of the weather." 

Draco gestured outside, where it was dark from the fog blocking everything out of sight.  Damek started laughing, while Ivan and Nikolas smirked. It turned out that, Ivan and Damek had both come from very respectable and wealthy wizarding families. Of course, seeing as Draco was 'a Malfoy,' they immediately took a liking to him. Draco knew this was based solely on his family's reputation, but he wasn't surprised. He did that sort of thing all the time. The four of them were sitting in four large chairs arranged in a circle, on the first level of the ship. The ship looked like it had recently been remodeled, as the deck they were on now had new furniture and the dark wooden walls of the ship were still glossy from the varnish. Draco had also heard from Damek, that the sleeping quarters on the lower deck had been done up as well. Apparently ever since Professor Karkaroff, the old headmaster, had disappeared two years ago, Durmstrang had improved quite a bit. 'Well, it can't be any worse than Hogwarts,' thought Draco. He brought his attention back to the other three boys, who were talking amongst themselves. 

"Hey… where's Gunnar?" asked Damek.

Nikolas shrugged. "He's probably on another ship." 

Ivan snorted. "Da, with that idiot Breuning." 

Draco suddenly became very interested in the conversation. The Breuning's were one of the most esteemed wizarding families in all of Europe. Draco had never met any of them, but he had heard his father speak quite highly of them, which rarely ever occurred.  

"Breuning?" asked Draco. 

Ivan nodded.

"Da, with Gunnar Eszes," he said, rolling his eyes. 

Draco immediately recognized the name Eszes, another wizarding family of great fortune, with a well-regarded family lineage. Nikolas suddenly started laughing. 

"Don't get all worked up over Breuning. Just because you two don't get along." 

Ivan scowled. 

"That's putting it lightly."

Damek was laughing as well. "Da, remember the last day of school?"

Damek turned to Draco and told him how 'someone' had mysteriously snuck into Ivan's dormitory and hexed him, so that he was permanently attached to his bed. The whole morning, people had been telling him to 'stop being lazy and get out of bed.' It was only until Ivan had started screaming and threatening to use the 'Unforgivables' on anyone who didn't help him that people realized he was stuck. It took a couple of professors to detach him, and that took a while, seeing as how struggling only made the curse stronger, and Ivan had been thrashing about for a few hours. He had ended up missing the ship back, and his father, who had to come by to pick him up, was not at all impressed. Draco couldn't help smirking.

"Shutup. It's not funny," said Ivan, his voice scolding.  

Nikolas rolled his eyes, then looked over at Draco. Both of them exchanged mocking grins, before seeing Ivan staring daggers at them. 

          They had been on the ship for about an hour, when Nikolas glanced out one of the portholes of the ship. 

"We're almost there," he turned back to Draco, "You better get changed." 

Draco looked outside the window, where he could still see nothing but fog. However, even though they were inside, Draco could still felt the cold air through his thick cloak. He nodded, and got up from his chair. 

"We'll meet you on the upper deck," said Nikolas. 

"All right," said Draco, before turning and walking away.

 He walked down to the deck below, where he managed to find a small empty room with a lock on the door. Inside, he quickly pulled out his wand and summoned his robes. 

"_Accio_ robes," he called, and soon his large, dark fur robes appeared. 

As soon as he put them on, he felt immediately warmer. For a moment, he couldn't help admiring how well made they were, with very fine long fur and thick black lining. The hood of his robe had the same black lining, and came down just above his eyes. Using a returning charm, he quickly got rid of his cloak and made his way up to the upper deck to rejoin the others. As soon as Draco stepped out into the open air, he was immediately hit by a sharp gust of wind. Pulling his robe tighter, he started to walk around the deck, looking for the other three boys. He had almost walked around the whole deck, where he had gotten a few appreciative smiles from some girls, until he found the rest of them on the stern side of the ship. Ivan and Nikolas were casually leaning against the railing, while Damek was sitting up on top of it. 

"Hey," said Damek, as Draco joined them. Just then a group of girls around Draco's age, walked past. Ivan and Damek didn't seem to notice, until one of the girls said, "Hey Nikolas."

Nikolas bowed his head slightly. 

"Hello."

Draco glanced over his shoulder to look at whom he was talking to. A girl, who had dark brown hair with honey-coloured highlights and pretty hazel eyes, was looking at Nikolas, before she saw Draco. She smiled shyly, from behind her hair falling slightly over her eyes. Draco inwardly frowned. There was something about this girl he didn't like. He quickly turned back towards the other boys, where Ivan and Damek were looking at Nikolas and shaking their heads in disapproval.

Nikolas shrugged innocently as if to say, "What?"

"Honestly, Nikolas," said Damek. " You shouldn't encourage _them_." 

Draco watched as Nikolas scowled and swallowed hard. Folding his arms, he looked away from the rest of the boys and out to the horizon.  

Draco stepped towards Ivan and quietly asked, "What's that all about?"

Ivan shook his head again, folding his arms. "There are certain… people we tend to avoid at Durmstrang. That girl is one of them."

Draco was going to ask him to elaborate, when Ivan tilted his head, looking at the middle of the fog. 

"A few more minutes 'till Durmstrang," he said. 

Ivan turned back to Draco, giving him the once over before saying, "I think she's taking a liking to you, however." 

He was referring to the way that girl was looking at him. Draco wasn't blind. He'd had girls flirt with him a lot, Pansy especially, so he knew when a girl was interested.

Draco turned to Nikolas, who glanced at Draco for a second, before looking away again. 

"I realised. Unfortunately." said Draco, boredly. 

Ivan sniggered, and then looked back out into the fog, "Durmstrang's coming into view."

Draco furrowed his brow in confusion, and stared ahead. All he could see was fog and lake. The mountains were still very far away… suddenly Draco caught a glimpse of something through the mist. 

"What…?" he said softly. Slowly, something was emerging through the cloudy haze. As the ship continued to move forward, the fog started to disappear and Draco could clearly see a large stone castle… that was magically floating on the surface of the icy lake. The addition of the mountains sitting far behind the castle would've created a picturesque scene, if the school didn't look so menacing.

"Not bad hmm?" said Ivan. 

Draco looked at him. He shrugged, acting indifferent, before turning around again. By now, the fog had completely disappeared, and Draco could see the castle of Durmstrang more clearly. The castle looked like it was made up of a very dark shiny stone, possibly obsidian, which under normal circumstances would have sunk to the bottom of the lake. It was smaller than Hogwarts, but then again, that was built on solid ground. No wonder almost nobody knew where Durmstrang was, they were all probably looking someplace on land. Up ahead, Draco saw a large wooden dock, where ships were coming in and hundreds of students were making their way up to the castle. It was not long before Draco's ship had docked, and he soon found himself walking along the dock with the others, up to the castle. 

          The great wooden doors at the entrance had been pushed open, and as he walked through, Draco saw that when put together, a large engraved D, (with Latin written underneath,) was formed. The interior of Durmstrang was very dark, lit only with a few candles hung up on the walls, widely spaced out from each other. Up ahead, Draco saw students moving into what had to be Durmstrang's great hall. As he drew closer, Draco saw two large staircases on either side of the hall. Where they led, Draco couldn't tell. He could barely see what was in front of him.

Upon entering the hall, Draco noticed that, it too, was also different from Hogwarts. The staff table was still at the front of the hall, but the student's tables were arranged differently. Instead of four long tables, there were countless smaller ones in two main columns, lined up in rows along the hall. 

As the four boys made their way up to a table somewhere in the middle, a lot of people greeted Nikolas, Ivan and Damek. Draco noticed many of the same people stare at him, lowering their voices and asking about who he was. As they sat down, Ivan glanced around the room. 

"Dammit, Breuning isn't here." 

Nikolas rolled his eyes. 

"You know that Breuning and Eszes never attend the start of term assembly."

Ivan snorted, but didn't say anything. Shortly afterwards, the entire hall rose from their seats and the headmaster came in from a side door, followed by the members of the faculty. The headmaster looked to be around 50 years old, with dark eyes covered in bushy eyebrows, and short black hair that matched his dark robes perfectly. Lucius had informed Draco that Durmstrang's new headmaster was Professor Vertov, an old acquaintance of his. Having heard this, Draco wasn't exactly expecting him to be a 'Dumbledore.' 

Professor Vertov gestured for everyone to sit down, which they did, in complete silence. Vertov scanned the room slowly before beginning.

 "Welcome," he said, in a voice that completely contradicted that statement.

 "We are at the beginning of a new school year. For those of you returning to Durmstrang…" he stopped for a moment, again looking around the room before speaking in that cold steely voice,

 "You know what is expected of you… and what will happen if you fail to meet those expectations." 

Draco glanced at Nikolas, Damek and Ivan, who all rolled their eyes and made mocking "blah, blah, blah" gestures with their hands.

"For those of you who are starting this year and do not know what is expected… you will quickly learn." 

Again, he paused, before saying, 

"Cito fit quod dei valunt." 

 Draco recalled the Latin writing on the main entrance. Based on his knowledge of the language, he roughly translated it in his head. 

"Cito fit quod dei valunt… What the gods want, happens soon…" 

It was Durmstrang's motto. No wonder his father favoured it over Hogwarts. His attention was brought back to the front of the hall, where Professor Vertov loudly clapped his hands once, and food magically appeared on the table in front of them. Draco shook his head, reminded of meals at Hogwarts. Some things never change.

          After they had finished dinner, Draco and the others were just about to make their way over to the dorms. Unlike Draco's former school, Durmstrang did not have a house system. So instead of being sorted and put into houses with their own dormitories, the students were split up by gender and age, into small classes. There were only three 6th year classes this year. Draco didn't know which one he was in yet, he'd know tomorrow. Recently, the dormitories had been rebuilt, and were now floating on the lake, separated from the castle. They left the great hall, and to the right, just a bit before the staircase, was a long corridor that Draco failed to notice last time. They were just about to set off down the hall, when somebody called out from the staircase on the right. 

"Hey." 

Draco watched as someone slowly descended from the stairs. 

"Hello Gunnar," said Nikolas. Draco gave him the once over. His eyes were dark blue, and he had short golden brown hair with the kind of chiseled face that most girls liked to stare at for hours. He was tall and his muscular build made his fur robes look awkward on him, although he seemed like the kind of guy that could easily endure extremely cold weather without them. 

'And eats his meat raw,' thought Draco. Ivan looked at Gunnar, then behind him and then back to Gunnar again. 

"Where's Breuning?" he said, his voice dripping with contempt.

Gunnar smirked. " Are you still mad about last year?" 

Ivan scowled, "How would you like it if that happened to you?!! I was stuck there for hours, my father was so angry…"  

"It's in the past." 

Draco and the others all turned their heads up to see someone standing in the middle of the staircase. A girl. Her hair was long, falling past the shoulders of her fur robes and curling softly at the ends; in the dim lighting it looked as though her hair was light brown, though it was probably some shade of blonde. Her pale green eyes looked distant, adding to her general impression of aloofness. She made her way down the stairs and over to Ivan, where she stood just above his shoulders. 

"Get over it," she said nonchalantly.

All of a sudden, she turned and looked at Draco. Her eyes moved up and down, scanning him from head to toe before turning to Nikolas, eyebrows raised enquiringly. Nikolas gestured to Draco, 

"Eszes, Breuning, this is Draco Malfoy. Malfoy… Elisabet Breuning." 

Gunnar nodded, while Elisabet observed Draco again, with more interest. 

"Malfoy?"

 "Breuning," said Draco.

Elisabet stared at him, contemplative. The next words she spoke were in English.

"Bulgaria's a long way from England… Malfoy." 

He had to give it to her; the girl knew her stuff. 

"Yes. It is," replied Draco, not missing a beat.

Elisabet smirked, before Gunnar interrupted. 

"What are you two talking about?" he asked, in Bulgarian.

Elisabet turned her head slightly towards Gunnar, before looking back at Draco. She didn't say anything. Draco watched Gunnar as slipped an arm around her waist. Elisabet remained perfectly still, but Draco could tell from her eyes she was aware of everything going on around her. 

Gunnar smiled at her, before leaning his forehead on top of her head. She still didn't move. Gunnar looked up at the other boys. 

"I'll see you later," he said to Ivan, Nikolas and Damek, before turning to Draco. 

"Malfoy." 

"Eszes." 

Elisabet broke off her gaze from Draco, as Gunnar and her started to leave.

"Bye Breuning," said Damek. Elisabet glanced at him, and then continued to walk down the hallways.

Ivan scowled as Gunnar and Elisabet walked off together. 

"That Breuning… is so… gargh!" he spat. 

Draco smirked. 

"My, my, Ivan. You certainly have a way with words."

Ivan shot a look of daggers at him. Draco just folded his arms casually in reply. Ivan let out another yell of frustration.

"I hate that girl. I hate her!"

Damek laughed. 

"I'd like to see you tell her that!" 

Ivan glared at Damek. "You think I'm afraid of her?" 

"No," said Nikolas, "but we all know that you won't cross Gunnar. And as long as she's his girlfriend, you won't do anything to her." 

Ivan was fuming, but he remained silent. 

"Come on," said Nikolas, "Let's go to bed. That is…" he paused to look at Ivan, "If you're not too scared." 

Draco couldn't help grinning, as Ivan began to storm off towards the dormitories, leaving the rest of them to follow him.   

AN: A bit of story, a bit of buildup. This is just my idea of Durmstrang. I have no idea what J.K's image of it is like. Lots of Original Characters I know. I'm not a big fan of them myself. But there will be cameos from the other characters in upcoming chapters.  


	4. The More You Change The Less You Feel

For I Am A Wicked Child

_Horseface_

***CHAPTER FOUR***__

The More You Change The Less You Feel 

When Draco awoke the next morning, it took him a while to remember where he was. 'Durmstrang,' he thought as he glanced around his room. Ever since the dormitories at Durmstrang were rebuilt, all of the 6th and 7th year students had their own private rooms, instead of sharing a room with five other people. Draco's father had managed to get him one of the larger rooms in the boys 6th year dormitory. Similar to his room at Hogwarts, he had a large four-poster bed, a bedside table and a dark wooden study desk, with a new quill and pot of ink sitting on top. It was bitterly cold in his room, as there was no fireplace, and Draco pulled his thick dark green blankets up higher. He'd always been fond of the colour green, even before he was in Slytherin. He lay in bed for a few minutes, before his stomach growled at him. Grudgingly, Draco pulled himself out of bed and got dressed into his new school robes. Looking in the large mirror on one of his walls he adjusted the collar of his blood-red robes and despite his pale complexion, the colour suited him rather well. He smirked at his reflection, before putting on his fur cloak and making his way down to breakfast.  

Through the long hall of the 6th year boys' dormitories and down the large staircase, which had the occasional breaks leading to the other year's dorm levels, Draco walked out the main door of the boy's dormitories. Glancing over his shoulder, Draco looked back at the dorm. It was large, around five stories, with a glass dome forming the roof. Like the ceiling of the Great Hall at Hogwarts, the dome was enchanted to change, but instead of the sky, it would imitate what the lake looked like. To anyone flying over Durmstrang, the dorms would look just like the surface of the lake. Draco stared at it for a few seconds longer, before turning back around. He took his time as he crossed the bridge from the dormitory, leading back to the main building of Durmstrang.

       Draco arrived at the hall to find Ivan, Nikolas and Damek sitting at the same table from last night, eating breakfast. Gunnar and Elisabet were there as well. 

"Morning Draco," said Nikolas.

Draco said nothing as he took a seat between Nikolas and Elisabet. Food magically appeared on the plate in front of him, as well as a piece of parchment. As Draco took a bite of his food, he picked up the parchment and began to read it to himself. 

'Elite Transfiguration, Elite DADA, Potions, Apparition,  …' It was his timetable. Except… Draco was taking six subjects, but there were only four listed, with a couple of blank spaces in between. Before he could ask anyone about it, he heard a loud screech from high above the tables.

 "Mail," he thought, as he saw hundreds of owls swoop through open windows and fly over the heads of the students. Draco spotted his own owl, carrying a small brown parcel. He caught it as his owl flew past, and glanced at it. It was from his mother, probably containing sweets. 

As Draco was placing it on the table, he saw another owl approaching. As the owl flew passed, it dropped a letter in front of him. Draco smirked. He could tell who it was from, just be looking at the colour of the seal. Pale Pink. Pansy Parkinson. He'd forgotten to mention to her that he wasn't returning to Hogwarts. No doubt that was what the letter was about. He flipped the envelope open, unfolded the letter and began to read…

_"Draco,_

_Why did you not tell me you were attending Durmstrang this year?! I only found out last night, in the Great Hall. I had to hear it from Goyle, of all people! I was so distraught I couldn't eat dinner last night!"_

At this Draco had to laugh. Ever since the Yule Ball in fourth year, where Granger had undergone a complete transformation, Pansy had developed an eating disorder. And a newfound hatred for Mud bloods.

" When I wrote to my parents about it, they said that it was unfortunate, but for the best." 

'Why doesn't that surprise me?' thought Draco, as he remembered that the Parkinson's had been part of the higher ranks of Voldemort's inner circle. Pansy's parents seemed to share his father's own sentiment of "The more, the merrier," when it came to prospective Deatheaters. 

"That doesn't make it any better though. They refuse to let me transfer to Durmstrang saying I should complete my final years in England. But everyone here at Hogwarts is so stupid and boring. I don't know how I'll get through this year without you. You must write to me as soon as you get this letter. 

_Pansy."_

Draco quietly put away the letter in his robes. He noticed how Pansy failed to mention anything about the end-of-year party from last year. Granted, she probably didn't actually remember anything about that night. 

As Draco lifted his glass up to his mouth to take a drink of juice, Nikolas nudged him on the shoulder. 

"First class starts soon," he said, gesturing towards Draco's timetable. "What have you got?" 

Draco looked at his timetable. There was only a blank space. 

"Nothing," said Draco. "Some incompetent idiot has screwed up my timetable."  

Nikolas pulled out a pocket watch from his robes. 

"Look… now," he said.

 Skeptically, Draco looked at his timetable. 'Dark Arts,' was printed clearly in bold black ink. He turned to Nikolas, who grinned. 

"Since some of the classes are… frowned upon by the Ministry of Magic, certain subjects only appear on your timetable five minutes before the classes start. It's just a precaution," he explained. 

"Come on, I've got Dark Arts as well," said Nikolas, rising from the table.

Draco glanced at his timetable one more time, before following Nikolas to his first class at Durmstrang.  

       Lessons at Durmstrang were definitely a lot more interesting that those at Hogwarts. In Dark Arts, Draco found they would be studying very complex magic, unlike anything he would have ever learnt at his previous school. At the moment, they were learning how to summon dark mythical creatures. Draco had gained the teacher's favour, by managing to successfully summon a particularly vicious Kappa, before using the stupefy charm on it. 

"Durmstrang could do with more students of your aptitude," said Professor Safford, the DA teacher. Draco couldn't help grinning smugly for the rest of the lesson.

He was surprised at how much Durmstrang really did focus on the darker side of wizardry. Even in Potions class, everything they were learning about was classified into two different categories; Innocens for harmless potions and Lethalis for deadlier concoctions.  In Advanced Transfiguration, they were learning about how to become Animagi, and they'd already begun practicals in Apparition, practicing on pumpkins. Draco's was one of the few that didn't get splinched. 

"Not bad," said Nikolas. Draco was standing with Nikolas, Ivan and Gunnar outside the great hall, at the bottom of one of the staircases, which led to the classroom levels. Damek had already gone to Advanced Arithmancy, but all four of them had a blank space on their timetables, so they were waiting to see what class they had next. Ivan snorted.

 "So his pumpkin didn't get sliced up, big deal." 

"Now, now Ivan," said Draco, "You did a pretty good job. I hear the house elves are enquiring about you. Apparently they need a juicer in the kitchen." 

He was referring to how Ivan's pumpkin had exploded, before it had even gone anywhere. Nikolas and Gunnar snickered. Ivan scowled, but said nothing. 

"Hey… lay off Ivan guys," said Nikolas, before adding, "It's a good thing you're not a vegetable, Draco, because then you'd really be in trouble!" 

Ivan growled, and started to storm off, while everyone else was still laughing. 

"Where are you going then?" called Nikolas.

" Dark Arts… so you bastards better watch your backs!" yelled Ivan. Nikolas coughed, trying to mask his laughter. 

"How I quiver with trepidation," drawled Draco sarcastically. 

"Shut up!!!" bellowed Ivan, before stomping off down the hall.

The three of them watched him leave, before Gunnar said, "And as the drama queen made his exit, the others laughed at his retreating figure."

Both Nikolas and Draco smirked. Gunnar glanced at his timetable. "Looks like I've got DA with the histrionic wonder. I'll see you guys around." 

Gunnar turned smoothly on his heel, his robes swirling around his feet and began to walk in the same direction as Ivan. Draco looked down at his timetable. 

"I.M?" He looked back at Nikolas, questioningly.

"You've got Illusionary Magic too?" said Nikolas. "This way then." 

Draco followed Nikolas, who led him into a small dark classroom on the first floor. There were a few other people already there, sitting at desks. Draco and Nikolas took a seat at a desk a few rows back from the front. 

They hadn't been there long, when Elisabet walked in. 

"Hey Breuning," said Nikolas as she took a seat at the desk adjacent to them.

She tilted her head towards them, nonchalantly saying, "Zdrasti."

"So you managed to make it into this class hmm? If I recall, you didn't do so well on your O.W.L's last year. Mainly E's and only a couple of O's wasn't it?"

Elisabet's face remained blank as she organised her books, not looking at either of them. 

"Make a point, Nikolas."

"Well it's a pretty hard class, do you think you'll be able to cope?" asked Nikolas, rather bluntly. It was obvious to Draco that Nikolas wasn't asking out of concern for Elisabet, since there was the smallest hint of a smirk on his face. Draco wasn't exactly sure what they were going to learn in this class, but he knew for a fact that all the subjects on his timetable were very demanding and one had to be fairly capable with magic to cope. Elisabet casually turned her head towards Nikolas, and stared at him. There was nothing particularly malicious or nasty about it, but there was something about the way her eyes looked, expressing a quiet composed authority. It made Nikolas uncomfortable at least, and he quickly turned away and looked to the front of the class. Elisabet shifted her head, glancing towards Draco. Their eyes met for a second, before her light blonde hair slipped across her face as she turned back to the front of the class.

Suddenly the classroom door forcefully slammed shut by itself, causing most people in the class to jump in their seats.

 "Now that I have your attention." 

Several heads whipped to the front of the class, where a man had suddenly appeared. He was wearing a long dark black robe, the bottom of which flowed across the stone floor. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his dark blue eyes surveyed the classroom, out from underneath a hood that, otherwise, concealed most of his face. 

"My name is Professor Marconi. I suggest you learn it quickly, and spell it correctly." The man spoke in a low, quiet tone; quiet like knives were quiet. "Illusionary Magic. An Illusion, like irony, is when something differs from what it actually is." 

A boy in the back raised his hand, "Sir, I don't understand. Wizards use Illusionary Magic all the time. Why is this classified as a DA class?" 

The man was silent for a moment, before saying, "To create an illusion… is to create a deception. It can be considered bad or good, depending on your perspective." 

He paused for a moment, to pull back his hood. He had a very hard, bony face and his stark white hair fell just past his cheekbones. 

"Illusionary magic is one of the hardest and most complex forms of magic there is. To stay in this class, you will have to work VERY hard. There will be no second chances for any slackers."

 He paused, and glared at the class. 'Question Boy' sank slightly lower into his seat.

"For those of you who do keep up…" he looked over at where Draco, Nikolas and Elisabet were, "I'm sure you will find Illusionary Magic to be invaluable. In time, you will be able to create and conceal your own reality." 

Professor Marconi whipped his head back to glare at 'Question Boy.' 

"You, however, can get out of my class."

"What?!" gasped 'Question Boy.'

Professor Marconi walked back to his desk, "I will not waste my time bothering on useless causes. Leave." He spoke to him with his back turned, not even bothering to look at him. Question Boy sat there for a moment, before he sheepishly gathered his things and made his way out of the classroom. Draco smirked. He liked this class already.

       "We've got a few hours to go until dinner," said Nikolas, as the three of them walked out of the IM classroom and into the corridor. There weren't that many students at Durmstrang, so the hallways of the castle were always quite empty. There were only a handful of other people around as Draco, Elisabet and Nikolas continued on their way. "Let's just go back to the dorms," suggested Nikolas, "I can't be bothered doing anything else…"

"Hi Nikolas."

Draco glanced over his shoulder to look at whoever had interrupted, and saw a couple of girls standing behind him. He recognised the brunette with the highlights as the girl from the ship yesterday. The one who was smiling at him demurely. She was doing it again, in fact. She looked down and slowly tucked a strand of hair out of her face, before meeting his eyes again. 

"Hi Draco."

He inclined his head a bit, glancing at Elisabet and Nikolas. Nikolas was partially smiling, nervously tapping one foot, while Elisabet was nonchalantly staring off in another direction, obviously disinterested in the conversation that was taking place.

"I don't believe we've been properly introduced," said the girl.

Draco turned back to look at her to see she was still smiling politely at him. 

"I'm Monika. We have Dark Arts together."

"Oh, I hadn't noticed," said Draco, indifferently. Nikolas cleared his throat. Monika blushed, before her smile returned. 

"Oh, well… I am. It is a big class… and..."

"Draco."      

Draco turned and looked at Elisabet, who was now standing right beside him. Elisabet's eyes flicked toward Monika for a second, before she turned back to Draco.  

"Let's go."

Draco was more than content to oblige. Abruptly turning on his heel, he began to follow Elisabet and Nikolas as they walked down the hall.

 "Um… I'll see you around, Draco!" called out Monika. Draco didn't reply. 

       Silence fell between the three of them as they walked down the corridor to the glass link that stretched between the boy's dormitories and the castle. Nobody said anything as they reached the entrance to the first level of the boys' dorms. A first year began to yell at them for passing through where they didn't belong, before all three glared at him, effectively shutting him up. Elisabet continued to lead the way up the stairs to the 6th year level, making Draco wonder how familiar with the boys' dorms she was.   

As the three of them approached the main entrance to the 6th year level, Nikolas said, "She's not that bad. Once you get to know her."

 "Nikolas," said Elisabet, softly, "Forget her. For your sake." 

She nodded towards the door, gesturing at Nikolas. Grudgingly, Nikolas stepped up to the door and uttered the password. 

_"Ad gloriam."_

Slowly the door swung open and Elisabet stepped inside, with Draco and Nikolas following. 

       The common room was fairly small, since it was for 6th year boys only. A few of them were sitting in the room now, including Gunnar and Damek. They were talking quietly between themselves, sitting in the large chairs that were placed around a central pillar in the room, where a bright blue flame sitting on top was emanating heat. The three of them moved to sit down and as Elisabet was about to take a seat, one of the other boys in the common room said, 

"What's she doing here?" 

Elisabet glanced at him before taking the empty seat next to Gunnar, apathetic towards the boy. Gunnar straightened up in his chair and looked straight at the boy. "Are you going to kick her out?" 

The boy's eyes scanned over the five faces that were resolutely staring back at him. Eventually, he shrank away and went back to his own business.  

"Where's Ivan?" asked Nikolas, as he looked around the room. Damek laughed.

 "He just got a letter… from his _father." _Nikolas made a face, before grinning. 

"Guess we won't be seeing him for a while. All that sulking and father-cursing _IS_ rather time consuming." 

As Gunnar and Nikolas snickered, Draco couldn't help but feel some sympathy for Ivan. Letters from his own father Lucius had the incredible ability to cause major mood swings, sending Draco to 'Bittersville' faster than Floo powder.

"Still, better him than myself," thought Draco, as he joined in with the rest of them laughing at Ivan. 

       Dinner at Durmstrang came and passed quickly and soon Draco was back in his room, sitting at his desk and sneering at the memory of that … Monika, who had desperately tried to get him to sit next to her during Dinner. Shaking his head, he pulled out a piece of parchment, before dipping his quill in ink. Placing the tip of his quill on the parchment, he began to write…

_"Pansy,_

It has been a while. First things first, my transfer to Durmstrang came as a surprise to me as well. Thankfully however, it is much more agreeable than Hogwarts and there are many others who come from proper pureblood wizarding families. It's unfortunate, however that you can't be here. But there's no need for the dramatics Pansy. It's only a couple of years. I'm sure you can handle that. And if you can't I shall be very disappointed in you. Calm down. Everything will work out the way it's supposed to. 

Trust me. 

_Draco."_

N.B More build-up. This chapter might change because I'm not sure I'm completely satisfied with it. *Sigh* Just when you start to think you're reaching the top, you're still climbing the mountain. Maybe something dramatic will happen in the next chapter? You'll have to find out.


	5. Across The Night

For I Am A Wicked Child

Horseface

***CHAPTER FIVE***

Across the night 

Despite Durmstrang's interesting and somewhat controversial classes, nothing much had been happening at the school, until a couple of days later. Draco was walking by himself to his second to last class, when Damek met up with him in the corridor and stopped him. "Hey Draco, you've got your own broomstick right?" 

"I'm not even going to dignify that question by answering it," replied Draco, sardonically. "Care to explain why you'd even ask?"

Damek grinned mischievously. 

"Later. In the common room," he replied, before running off down the hall. Draco watched him go suspiciously, before continuing on his way. He'd only known that boy for a couple of weeks, but he knew better than to consider him a reliable source of information.

          Ironically though, it turned out that there was some truth to Damek's words as Draco found out when he entered the common room. Gunnar and Ivan were in deep conversation, only stopping when Draco cleared his throat and alerted them of his presence. "Ah, Draco. Damek says you've got a broomstick." 

Draco nodded, "Yeah, it's a…" Draco's jaw tightened indignantly for a second before he continued, "It's a Nimbus 2001." Gunnar nodded, while Ivan scowled.

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean? I've got a Nimbus 2000!"

Draco looked at him blankly. "Well that would be worse than wouldn't it?" 

Gunnar quickly spoke up before Ivan could react. "As long as you can fly it, I don't care if you've got a silver arrow." 

Draco rolled his eyes, "All right all right. Why does it matter to you anyway?" 

"Midnight Quidditch," replied Gunnar, capturing Draco's undivided attention. Back at Hogwarts, Draco and several other members from Slytherin house used to sneak out onto the field late at night and play a game of Midnight Quidditch. It was a rare event however, considering the caretaker Filch was always hanging about, hoping he might be able to issue someone a week of detention. But Filch was usually the only person likely to interfere with their games, as Slytherin's were the only students that played at Hogwarts. Most members from the other houses either didn't know how to play or they just couldn't gather up the nerve, as not only were they wary of being on the receiving end of Filch's wicked temperament, but since Quidditch was dangerous enough during the day, playing in the dead of night was like having a death wish. The bludgers were harder to see than the snitch and someone always decided that it was the best time to practise any new curses they'd learnt on members of the opposing team, but it was without doubt, a hell of a lot more exciting than regular Quidditch. Still, it was always difficult convincing Madam Pomfrey how it actually was quite easy for someone to break their arms, legs and collarbone falling out of bed. Especially when three other students happened to injure themselves in the exact same way on the very same morning.

Gunnar folded his arms and raised an eyebrow at Draco, "I trust you've played before."

Draco smirked. "Yes, I've played."

"Good. Tonight we've got a game against the 7th years. We're all meeting back here after dinner. All right?"

"All right," replied Draco. Gunnar turned back to Ivan, who looked slightly sulky.

"Ivan, go find Nikolas and tell him. I don't think he knows." As he walked towards the main door, Ivan followed.  

"Where are you going then?" 

Gunnar shot him an 'Isn't-it-obvious?' look. "To find Elisabet."

As he stepped through the door, he waved goodbye to Draco. Ivan looked back at him as well, scowling. He moved to say something, but instead spun on his heel abruptly, storming out of the dorm and muttering angrily to himself.

"Riiight," said Draco, flatly.

          During dinner, Draco spotted a few 6th and 7th year students wolfing down their food as quickly as they could, only slowing down whenever one of the staff passed by. Draco's own table grew especially tense as Professor Dimitar passed by their table. 'Creepy' was the term most commonly used to describe him, and it was the most accurate. Long skeletal fingers emerged from his long, black sleeves and the high stiff collar of his robes concealed most of his bony surly face, so that only his shadowy dark green eyes could be seen. Those same eyes were now staring suspiciously at Draco's table, causing everyone to stop eating dinner. As Nikolas raised his glass to his mouth to take a drink, his hands were visibly shaking and Draco had to give him a good kick in the shins to make him stop. 

"Evening Professor," smiled Gunnar politely, one of the few who didn't seem affected by the man's daunting presence. 

"Hmm," was Dimitar's only reply, before he made his way down the hall. Gunnar continued to smile, as Dimitar occasionally glanced back at them, only stopping when the Professor had taken his place at the staff table.  Nikolas bit his lip. "They know." 

"Relax. We'll just have to be extra careful. It'll be fine. O-K?" said Gunnar, shooting him and the rest of the table a look that didn't leave much room for disagreement. Nikolas nodded, but he still didn't seem convinced until Gunnar kicked him in the shins as well. Draco snickered, receiving a look from Nikolas with a meaning that was too rude to be translated into words. In reply, Draco smoothly picked up his cup and brought it to his mouth with over exaggerated shaking. Nikolas blushed and he went back to finishing off the rest of his meal.

          It wasn't long before Draco found himself sitting in the common room again, waiting with the other for Gunnar to arrive. As the minutes ticked by, Draco's patience was wearing thin. He wasn't the only one growing irritated, as Nikolas, who was talking to two other 6th year boys, Andres and Zhivko was beginning to look tired of waiting. Bored, Draco lazily drummed his fingers against the armrest, his gaze wandering over to Ivan who was sitting by himself, protectively clutching his Nimbus 2000. A malicious grin spread across Draco's face.

"Why isn't that a quaint little broom you have there, Ivan."

"Shut up."

Just then, Damek quickly rushed into the dorms, breathing heavily. 

"Dimitar's coming!"

Almost immediately, everyone pulled out their wands and began to frantically recite returning charms. As the others were all swishing and flicking their wands in a flurry, Draco calmly placed his broom just behind one of the bookshelves in the room. As the last broom flew out of sight, Professor Dimitar entered the dormitory. 

"Good Evening."

"Evening sir," replied Andres and Damek, while the other boys smiled at him politely from their seats. An uneasy silence fell over the room, save for the crackling of the fire, as the Professor walked over and took a seat in one of the common room chairs.

"What are the six of you up to then?" Nikolas shrugged and shook his head. "Nothing in particular."

 "Really?" said Dimitar skeptically, "No… homework?" 

Draco noticed the other boys exchange glances as they tried to think of how to reply. 

"Done," answered Draco, "Finished it earlier." 

The Professor turned his head towards Draco and crossed his arms. He tapped his fingers steadily across his upper arm, increasing the boys' anxiety. "Malfoy, am I not correct?" 

Draco nodded and forced a smile. "Yes, you are sir." 

"You transferred from England?" 

"That's right," replied Draco, inwardly growing irritated at the Professor's talent for pointing out the obvious. The Professor unfolded his arms, and rested one of them on the armrest. He placed his fist under his chin, his face still devoid of any emotion. Or suspicion. 

"How do you like Durmstrang so far?" 

"It's very nice, sir," replied Draco, making sure to sound earnest. Professor Dimitar nodded and chuckled to himself, a low guttural laugh that tended to be associated with the criminally insane. 

"That's the funny thing about students Draco. When they're talking to teachers, you can never be sure if they're telling the truth." He clasped both his hands together, and leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a low undertone. "But you wouldn't lie, would you Draco?" 

Despite the Professor's intense glare, Draco looked him straight in the eye. If he had been at Hogwarts, Draco would've already mouthed off by now, telling the Professor that he'd do what he bloody well wanted to. But for some reason, the advice his father had given him inside the carriage rang through his head. Phrasing his answer carefully, Draco replied, "Why would I have any reason to do that? Sir." 

Professor Dimitar smiled thinly. Draco couldn't tell if he was pleased with this answer or if he was smiling because he was going to start dishing out reprimands. However, the Professor left the room without so much as giving out a warning to the boys. As soon as he was out of earshot, everyone let out a sigh of relief and congratulated Draco for his prevention of multiple detentions.

          Shortly afterwards, Gunnar and Elisabet sauntered into the dorm. Gunnar's arm was slung over her shoulder and he was whispering into her ear.  Elisabet didn't seem to be particularly engrossed in what he had to say, looking in the opposite direction of where he was.

"Oh look who it is," drawled Draco, "And here I was, thinking you couldn't be any later." Gunnar made a face at him, while Elisabet chose the moment to slip out from underneath his grasp.

"About time," snapped Nikolas, "Where were you?"

Gunnar rolled his eyes. "You sound like a fishwife, Nikolas. And I wasn't anywhere." 

Unimpressed with his answer, Nikolas folded his arms across his chest, looking surly. "Dimitar was here. Just now." 

Gunnar's eyes widened slightly. He sighed and rubbed his hand through his hair contemplatively. 

"What time is it?" he asked.

 "Quarter to 9," replied Andres. 

"All right," said Gunnar, "All of you go ahead. I'll go back and 'casually' bump into Dimitar. Otherwise he'll be chasing me all night."  

Everybody nodded in agreement and Gunnar quickly set off out the door. Nikolas gestured for everyone to follow him. "Come on." 

He walked over to the large window on the far side of the room, before opening it and… climbing outside. The familiar whoosh of a broomstick taking off could be faintly heard above the whistling wind and Andres, Zhivko and Ivan followed next, quickly disappearing out of sight. 

"You next Draco," said Damek.

Hesitating slightly, Draco moved towards the window. Climbing out, he stepped onto a small stone platform that looked ready to break away at any minute. He glanced up and saw the others hovering on their brooms, high above the dormitory. The night air was frosty and despite his thick black gloves, Draco's hands were still stiff with cold as he gripped his broom. Mounting it expertly, he easily kicked off the platform and flew up to join the others. Upon reaching their height, he looked back to see Elisabet mounting her broom, before she flew up to hover beside Draco. Although her long hair was tied back in a high ponytail, it was still flying violently all over the place. Several windswept strands caught the faint light of the moon and created a strange glowing effect around her face, not unlike Draco's own hair.

As the last of them reached the group, Nikolas declared, "We're going to the lakeside first. It's too risky to go straight to the pitch." 

Saying this, he urged his broom into flight and Draco followed suit along with the rest of them. They silently flew over the lake and Draco briefly caught a glimpse of the Quidditch hoops, glinting in the moonlight. Heading towards the mountains on one side of the lake, the sight of land drew closer. Draco could see the faint outlines of several people already waiting there, slowly becoming more visible as he drew closer and it wasn't long before he was slowly circling down to disembark from his broom. There were already seven boys waiting there, as well as a few girls, all of them slightly older than Draco. One of them, a tall boy with short, unnaturally bright red hair approached Elisabet, asking, "Where's Gunnar?" 

She looked back at him flatly. When she replied, Draco noted the forced politeness overlying the subtle tone of annoyance in her voice. "He's coming. " 

The frozen grass crackled underneath Draco's feet as he dismounted from his broom. Draco stood by himself, as he looked around the lakeside. On the edge of the land, there was a bridge connecting it to the school that sat just above water level. A small dirt path lay between two sides of large crooked trees, leading inwards towards the large mountains that helped conceal the location of Durmstrang. The warmth coming from the small group of students was combining with the chilly night air, creating a slightly misty appearance around them. 

"Cold night." 

Draco looked over his shoulder to see that Elisabet was now standing beside him, looking out onto the lake. Her ponytail was in partial disarray from the wind and loose strands fell around her face. It was messy, but she didn't look so stern for once. Draco turned back, tugging his gloves on tighter. 

"You really play in this weather?" 

A faint smile appeared on Elisabet's face. "It's better when it's cold."

She turned and met Draco's eyes briefly, before looking past him. "See that boy over there? That's the 7th year seeker, Radomir." 

Draco followed her gaze to a tall, wiry boy who was casually leaning against a Nimbus 2020, making small talk with a couple of girls. 

"He likes using the Impedimenta spell on players. You should take him out early in the game."

"All right," said Draco. Elisabet nodded, before looking up towards the sky. High above them, Gunnar was starting to make his descent to the ground. Elisabet met Draco's eyes once more, before she began to make her way over to her boyfriend. The two of them exchanged a few short words, before Gunnar sauntered over to the 7th year boy that had initially approached Elisabet. 

"You're late," said the boy sternly. Gunnar shrugged.

"What can you do, Jordan." 

The boy, Jordan, glared. "Are you ready _now_?" 

A sickeningly sweet, almost mocking, smile was Gunnar's reply. Both of them mounted their brooms simultaneously and kicked off to hover a metre above the ground, followed by everyone else. 

"First team at the pitch starts with the Quaffle," announced Jordan, as he removed a golden snitch from his pocket and let it hover between them. 

"When the snitch goes, so do we."

Gunnar nodded in agreement. Draco's grip on his broom tightened as everybody anxiously waited in silence and for a moment, the only noise that could be heard was the fluttering wings of the golden snitch. 

_Flap, Flap, Flap, Flap._

          All of a sudden, the snitch was off. It raced back towards the pitch, catching the moonlight in a blur of gold and silver. Immediately Draco kicked his broom into flight. The frosty winds felt like solid ice to Draco as he streaked over the lake at high speed. Just ahead of him, he could see Jordan and Gunnar neck and neck, flying dangerously fast towards the Quidditch field. They ended up arriving at the same time, and as the two of them brought their brooms to a halt in the middle of the pitch, Draco began to slow down while getting his first good look at Durmstrang's Quidditch pitch. 

Similar to Hogwarts, it had tall stands surrounding the oval pitch, only they were cloaked in black and blood red. The standard three hoops stood on either side, like every other pitch except with one substantial difference. Instead of a grass field, the stands and hoops were sitting on the dark blue surface of the lake. Polished black metal floating on top made up the boundaries and halfway lines, with a large metal path going around the outside of the stands in addition to a bridge that Draco presumed lead back to Durmstrang. The lake was sitting still and undisturbed and the metal was almost camouflaged since lack of light caused the water to bear a striking resemblance to obsidian. Even though he was hovering very high above it, Draco didn't have to be a genius to sense just how cold that water was, most likely on the verge of freezing point. 

The arrival of Andres and Nikolas halted his train of thought, and Draco looked up, he saw Ivan come to a screeching stop beside Gunnar. Five more players had arrived on the 7th year team, and Draco saw Elisabet casually hovering on the outside edge of the pitch, beside one of the stands. 

Suddenly the sound of struggling and muffled swearing filled the air and Draco, as well as everyone else, turned to see Damek and Radomir, the 7th year boy Elisabet had pointed out flying shoulder to shoulder, trying to shove each other off their brooms. Damek suddenly grinned, before pulling his broom to a halt, as the other boy was in the middle of shoving him. Carried by his momentum, Radomir looped over the side of his broom, while Damek raced towards the center and took his place between Nikolas and Ivan. Gunnar grinned at him and then looked over at Jordan. 

"Sixth year starts." 

Jordan scowled, before turning sharply on his broom and calling a huddle between the 7th years. Draco flew in closer to the other 6th years and they formed a tight circle as Gunnar began to talk. 

"All right, here's the lineup. Chasers are Zhivko, Nikolas and Andres." Cheers of approval went around between the Chasers and Gunnar gestured for them to be quiet. 

"Beaters are Ivan and Damek. I'm Keeper. And Draco…" Gunnar looked over at him, "You're seeker." 

"Try to keep up Malfoy," spat Ivan. Draco sneered. He pretended to charge at Ivan, who was caught off guard and wobbled on his broom.

"Try to keep _upright_, Ivan," he retorted, setting off stifled snickering amongst the other five players. Ivan growled, before turning on his broom and flying off to the left side of the pitch. Gunnar smiled approvingly at Draco, before looking over towards the 7th years. Jordan nodded towards them before flicking his wrist at his teammates, gesturing for them to take their positions. As the rest of his team got into place, Draco flew up high above them. A few metres away from him on the opposite side, Radomir was playing as the 7th year's seeker, just as Elisabet had said. 

"Accio Quaffle," called Nikolas and as soon as his arm closed around the large red ball, the game began. Remembering Elisabet's advice Draco reached into his robes to grab his wand, when he caught sight of a bludger speeding towards him. Ducking in the nick of time, the bludger zoomed over his head, sending a set of chills down his spine. Sitting back up on his broom, he grabbed his wand and surveyed the sky for the other seeker. Just below him, he saw Nikolas hurl the Quaffle past the keeper and through the hoops. Cries of "Shest! Shest!" filled the air. Draco looked over to the edge of the pitch, where Elisabet and a couple of other girls were sitting. Draco watched her eyes glance somewhere past him, then back to meet his own with a look that said, "Behind you."

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Radomir raising his wand. Quickly Draco turned on his broom, and as the other seeker yelled, "_Impedimenta!" _Draco cast the spell, "_Avis!"_

A flock of birds shot out from the end of his wand, and flew towards the other boy, a few of them becoming frozen in mid air before plummeting down towards the lake, breaking the still surface with loud splashing. As the 7th year seeker was occupied with trying to fend off the other birds, Draco quickly cast another spell on him.

"_Obliviate_!" 

The birds ceased their incessant attacking on Radomir; instead a strong invisible force flung them into him, knocking him back as well. The loud snap of breaking bones echoed around the pitch as Radomir slammed into one of the stands, before he slowly slid down the side and fell into the lake. A few of the girls on the sideline quickly flew down to meet him, except for Elisabet who was softly clapping her hands. The 7th year players were less than impressed however. A few of them stopped in mid flight to pull out their wands, before sending various hexes in Draco's direction. Quickly, Draco formed a shield around him, causing the spells to bounce off and head back towards their original casters. Draco snickered as they all tried to maneuver their brooms to avoid their own hexes, as well as the bludgers, sending the 7th years into an array of panic and confusion, enabling the 6th years to score another goal.   

          As Jordan swept around the outside of the pitch to avoid a bludger, he suddenly froze in mid-flight. Hastily he spun his broom around and sped off in the direction of the lakeside, noticeably startled by something he had seen. A few other players stopped what they were doing; glancing over at what Jordan was looking at, before racing off the pitch as well. Draco looked around to see that most of the sixth years had also flown away, and as he hovered in the air by himself, he suddenly felt someone nudge his shoulder. Whipping his head around, he found himself face to face with Elisabet. 

"What is it?" he asked.

 "Vertov," replied Elisabet. 

Hurriedly, they flew to one of the stands, before climbing down to hide in the staircase. Elisabet moved to the front side and shifted the material cloaking the stand slightly out of the way. Draco peered over her shoulder to see Professor Vertov and a few other teachers searching the grounds for any disobedient students out of bed. 

"Check the land," commanded Vertov.

Draco and Elisabet drew back from the stand's cloak, remaining deadly silent until the sound of the teachers' footsteps had faded into nothing. Draco suddenly sniggered as he remembered the 7th year seeker, Radomir who had fallen into the lake.

"Obviously Radomir isn't one of the more valued players on the team," whispered Draco to Elisabet, as the sound of splashing and someone gasping deeply for air broke the stillness of the night. The two of them peeked through the gap between the stand and material to see the boy frantically splashing about, having been abandoned by the seventh years at the sight of the teachers. Professor Vertov stood above him on the metal pathway that ran around the outside of the pitch, merely watching the boy as he pulled himself out of the water. 

"Tsk, tsk. I'll bet he's regretting trying to curse me now," smirked Draco, "Do you think he'll tell them anything?" 

Elisabet's hair brushed the side of his face as she looked over his shoulder, "He'll have to deal with Gunnar and Jordan if he does."

A slight smile appeared on Elisabet's face as the boy began to sneeze in the middle of Vertov's scolding.

"But at the moment, he looks too cold to even breathe." 

Elisabet moved away and sat down on one of the steps leading up to the seats of the stand. "We'll wait here for a while."

Draco nodded, before looking back out at the lake where Professor Vertov had grabbed Radomir by his soaking collar and was hauling him back to the school. Draco readjusted the material so that there weren't any spaces that might reveal the fact they were hiding there. He turned back around to face Elisabet, who had removed her gloves and was nonchalantly inspecting her nails, looking as relaxed as though she was sitting in front of a fireplace having a butterbeer, instead of hiding from a search party of teachers in a darkened Quidditch stand at some ungodly hour of the night. 

Several minutes passed in silence as they waited, as neither of them could be bothered to start up a conversation. Draco glanced over at his Nimbus 2001, which was sitting beside Elisabet's Nimbus 2020. Leaning over, he pulled it towards him, inspecting the handle that was beginning to lose some of its glossy shine. "I really should persuade my father into buying me a new broom. Honestly, I've had this one for years." 

At the sound of soft laughter, Draco glanced over at Elisabet who was shaking her head at him. He scowled. "What's so funny?" 

Elisabet didn't reply. She got up from her seat and moved over towards the material covering the stand, drawing it back slightly while Draco continued to glare at her. After a few seconds passed, she turned back to grab her broom. "Teacher's are gone." 

As she mounted her broom, she looked back over her shoulder at Draco, whose eyes were narrowed maliciously. "What?" he asked again. Elisabet turned her head forward. "Why don't youask_ your father_?" 

"What's that supposed to mean?" snapped Draco. He was met with Elisabet's soft wry laughter again. 

"If you don't know Malfoy, you don't deserve to." 

Draco's face contorted into a sneer and he suddenly felt a lot more sympathetic to Ivan. Carefully, he stalked over to her, coming to a halt less than an inch away from her. Suddenly he raised his hand and lashed out violently. Elisabet remained motionless as he grabbed something behind her head, before spinning around and grabbed his broom. 

"Here," he said shoving something into her hands. "Give this back to your boyfriend."    

As Elisabet glanced down at the golden snitch in her hands, Draco mounted his Nimbus 2001 and by the time she looked up again, he'd already gone. 

**N.B** I know this chapter took a long time to come out, but the next one's probably going to take a while as well since I'm posting it as I write and I'm having trouble sorting out the plot. (In fact, this could be taken down for editing.) Nasty Draco is coming up so if you like your Draco fluffy… read something else. 


	6. Affected Apathy

**For I Am A Wicked Child**

Horseface 

***CHAPTER SIX***

_Affected Apathy_

As soon as Draco got back to his dorm, he quietly sneaked into his room. As he shut the door, Elisabet's words were still ringing in his head. There was something about the way she'd mentioned his father and the understated contempt in her voice that irritated him more than it should. Taking off his cloak, he carelessly threw it over the back of his chair and drummed his fingers on top of the dark wooden desk, aggravated. He was annoyed at Elisabet, no doubt about that, but he was also annoyed at himself for taking their conversation so seriously. 

He stopped drumming his fingers and began to restlessly play with a small pot of ink, turning it over in his large hands. 

"_Go ask_ _your father…if you don't know, you don't deserve to…" _

Draco's grip on the inkpot tightened. The fact that she had implied that he was completely dependant on his father didn't bother him so much. Draco was fully aware that relying on his father was one of the easiest ways to get what he wanted and he also knew that Elisabet used her family the same way. It was what people like them did. Being hypocritical was another. Draco knew all this and he was still riled up. The only other person who had ever pissed him off this much by simply talking back to him was Harry Potter. 

He snarled, before hurling the inkpot against the wall. It smashed to pieces and black ink smeared across the cold grey stone. As the ink slowly ran down to the floor Draco slipped into bed, mentally shoving aside any more thoughts on the matter.

          The next day, Draco groggily crawled out of bed not having slept well that night. Although he'd be tossing and turning with irritation in his bed, he'd almost completely forgotten Elisabet's words until he saw the splattered ink on his wall. By then it had already dried, running all the way down to the floor and creating the appearance of a black hole in the middle of his wall. Draco ran a hand through his disheveled hair and reached for his wand that was lying on his bedside table. Casting a cleaning charm, the ink seamlessly flowed off the wall and swirled into the end of his wand. As soon as the last drop of ink had disappeared, Draco twirled the wand between his middle and index finger and then looked back at the wall. Although there was no sign it had ever been there, Draco could still see the black ink marring the grey stone. Draco sneered. He got dressed as quickly as possible and headed down towards the hall for breakfast, slamming the door to his room behind him. 

As he entered the hall, the first person he saw was Elisabet. She was completely nonchalant as he joined their table, glancing up at him for a second as he sat down across from her before turning back to her breakfast, acting as though nothing had happened last night. The rest of them didn't seem to share the same view as her however, since they all congratulated Draco about last night in hushed voices. Not only were they ecstatic about winning the game, since technically the 7th years had defaulted by flying away to hide, they found it hilarious that the teachers were furious about students sneaking out late at night. Apparently the 7th year seeker, Radomir was now banned from playing Quidditch, and had detention for the next month. This piece of news also explained why the 7th years that had been at the game were glaring at Draco as soon as he'd stepped into the hall. 

"And the season's starting in a month," said Damek, "Jordan has no chance of finding a decent seeker in that time." 

The other boys grinned nastily. Draco smirked with them and was about to start eating breakfast, when he saw Elisabet was looking at him, aloof as always.

"What?" asked Draco, keeping his voice completely deadpan.

"Gunnar wants to talk to you," replied Elisabet.

There was a moment's silence between them. 

"Where is he?" asked Draco. 

Elisabet shrugged. The piercing screech of mail arriving halted any further conversation between the two of them. Draco's owl quickly flew past him, dropping a letter off on the way. The wax seal on the back was pale pink. Pansy again. Carelessly, Draco opened the envelope and began reading. 

_"Dear Draco,_

_I'm going out of my mind here. It's miserable at Hogwarts. Things get more boring by the hour. Slytherin's coming last in house points. And if that weren't bad enough, Weasley and that Mudblood, have announced to everyone that they're an 'official couple.' Like anyone actually cares. The two of them and that dickhead Harry Potter are still the model students they were last year. It's disgusting and absolutely pathetic. Writing this letter is the only halfway decent thing that's happened to me all day. Hogwart's isn't the same without you. I'm asking my parents again if I can transfer to Durmstrang. They HAVE to let me go, they just have to._

_Write soon Draco, or I will be completely wretched.        _

_Pansy,"_

Draco smirked as he finished the letter. Pansy always did have a penchant for the dramatics. As he looked up from the parchment, he found the seat across from his empty. Scanning the hall he saw Elisabet making her way towards the exit, sorting through her mail. He looked down at the letter in his own hand. Placing the parchment back into its envelope, Draco used a returning charm to dismiss it. He already knew he wasn't going to bother with a reply.

          Draco didn't see Elisabet again until his last class Illusionary Magic. She sat across from Draco and Nikolas like always, and spent the period lazily scrawling notes in her book while occasionally joining in Nikolas and Draco's conversation. Soon enough, Draco found himself forgetting Elisabet's former remarks and the three of them amused themselves by making fun of other students in the class. In fact, the only person acting out of the ordinary was the teacher, Professor Marconi, who kept looking over at Draco from his desk. As the period ended and Draco was gathering his stuff, Nikolas left without him since he had to go see one of the Professor's about homework. As he picked his quill up from the desk he looked over at Elisabet who was still collecting her things. "You don't have to wait for me," she said, without so much as an upward glance.

Draco was surprised to find that he'd been thinking of doing just that. He shook his head and smirked as he began to walk away.

"I wasn't going to."  

As he exited the class, he found Gunnar waiting outside in the corridor, casually leaning back against the wall. Gunnar's eyes widened in surprise and he greeted Draco with a friendly, "Hey!" 

Draco replied with a quick tilt of his head, and walked over to where he was. "You wanted to talk to me?" 

"Yeah I did…" he stopped in mid sentence as he glanced behind Draco's shoulder. "Hey." 

Draco looked back to see Elisabet walking out, carrying her books across her chest. Her eyes met Draco's, before she looked over at her boyfriend and gave him a small smile. Gunnar wrapped his arm around her like he usually did, and gently took her books off her, before placing them in the crook of his arm. Draco rolled his eyes, "You were saying Gunnar?" 

Gunnar turned his attention back to Draco, while Elisabet looked off in a different direction. 

"I just wanted to let you know you're officially the new seeker on my team. Practice starts at 4:00 today," said Gunnar, gesturing with his arm that held Elisabet's books. Draco nodded slowly. Although he was gratified about the choice, that genetic Malfoy arrogance had arisen in him and in a sardonic tone of voice he said, " Don't I get a say in this?" 

Gunnar shrugged. "You could say thanks."

He grinned and with that, he turned around and began to head down the hallway with Elisabet beside him. Draco watched them go. Although Draco wasn't the type of person to get into serious relationships, he could still discern that something was off with Elisabet and Gunnar. Theoretically, it made sense that the two would date. 

Both came from very rich pureblood families and complimented each other perfectly on an aesthetic level, but watching them go there was something about them that didn't fit. Something was missing. Or in the way.

Draco pushed the thought aside, and as he started to make his way towards the link connected to the dorms, he happened to look over his shoulder and see Professor Dimitar at the other end of the corridor. He was hovering several metres away from the last classroom, the one beside Draco's IM class. Dimitar stopped at a niche in the wall and glanced around nervously. Thinking it was best to stay out of view, Draco moved behind a large gargoyle statue lined up on one side of the corridor.  Dimitar didn't notice him and he mumbled something under his breath and Draco suddenly heard the sound of a heavy stone door sliding open. As Dimitar walked further inside the niche, Draco caught a glimpse of something in his hand, hidden by his large sleeves. It looked to be some sort of book, quite large and very old. It was black and had patches of red on the cover. Before Draco could get a proper look at it, Dimitar had completely disappeared inside the wall. Coming out from behind the statue, Draco turned and began to make his way towards the boys' dormitories again, but couldn't help taking one final look behind him.

          The wind was starting to pick up again as Draco made his way to the Quidditch pitch, clutching his Nimbus 2001 in one gloved hand. As Draco drew closer to the watery oval, he spotted Gunnar standing on the metal strip that acted as the halfway line for the pitch, talking to Professor Marconi, his illusionary magic teacher. They were speaking in hushed voices and were so immersed in their conversation, they didn't notice Draco approaching them.

"Are you sure you want him on the team?" questioned Marconi.

"He's good," replied Gunnar.

"Is he good enough though?" shot back Marconi. 

Draco cleared his throat firmly, choosing this opportunity to make his presence known. 

The two of them turned their heads simultaneously towards him. Marconi gave him the once over, while Gunnar smiled and said, "Draco. Right on time." 

He moved his head towards Marconi, "This is Professor Marconi. He's the manager of our team, Cronus." 

So this explained why the Professor had been watching Draco during class.

"Afternoon Professor," said Draco, somewhat curt yet still maintaining a polite manner. Marconi didn't respond. 

"I'll leave you to practice," he told Gunnar, before quickly walking past Draco and back to the school. Draco looked at Gunnar, who waved his hand dismissively.

"He's very competitive. Winning's important to him. I guess he doesn't like the idea that our new seeker is someone who's never played a game at this school," explained Gunnar, before smirking and adding, "Or at least not in daylight anyway." 

Gunnar reached into his pocket and fumbled around for something. Draco looked around the empty field before smirking. 

"Obviously punctuality's not one of this team's strengths," he remarked. 

"I wanted to see you on your own," replied Gunnar as he pulled a snitch out of his pocket. Draco recognised it as the same one from last night, the one he'd given back to Elisabet. Gunnar held it out in front of him.

"Now I have it on good word that you can catch a snitch," he said, obviously referring to Elisabet, "But what matters to me is how fast you can catch it."

 He drew his hand back before opening his clenched fist, leaving the snitch to lie exposed in his hand. A second later, the snitch shot up into the air. Draco rolled his eyes, before effortlessly mounting his broom and chasing after it. It wasn't long before Draco was holding the snitch in the palm of his hand. The snitch's fluttering wings were still brushing the inside of his hand as Gunnar flew up beside him. 

"That was quicker than I expected," he said.

Draco snickered.

"Better is what you mean," he retorted.

Gunnar smirked and extracted a long mahogany wand from a pocket in his robes. 

"Here," he said, reaching his hand out towards Draco, who tossed the snitch back to him. Gunnar gently tapped his wand on the spot between the snitch's wings, "_Regiminis._"

Withdrawing his wand, he released the snitch, which hovered gently in the air. Draco watched as Gunnar moved his wand from side to side, and the snitch mimicked the same movements. 

"Feint practice," explained Gunnar, who had noticed Draco's wariness, "I have complete control of whatever the snitch does." 

"Is that supposed to be reassuring?" snapped Draco. Gunnar grinned. Draco was suddenly aware of how Gunnar's smiles were all identical and mentally scoffed. He could just imagine him spending hours in front of his mirror, practising to make sure they seemed genuine and not plastered on. 

"Ready?" asked Gunnar.

Draco bit back a malicious grin at the thought of Gunnar's "grinning techniques" and nodded to show he was all set.

"Go," said Gunnar, flicking his wand downwards with the snitch following suit

Without hesitation, Draco dived down after it. The snitch was diving faster and faster, and Draco had to urge his broom to keep up. He was getting closer and closer to the lake surface now, but the snitch was just an arms length away from him. Only meters away from the water, he reached out, his hand almost completely over the golden snitch. Just as he was about to grab it, the snitch increased its speed, flying out of his grasp. It was only when the snitch disappeared underneath the lake that Draco realised he was going to hit the water as well. He didn't even have time to think about pulling up as he crashed through the icy surface.

It took a few seconds before the cold hit him. It was so dark underneath the lake. Draco couldn't breathe. It was like his lungs had frozen over. His fur robes floated around him like black gossamer wings. He saw the snitch swim past him and break the lakes surface. As the cold started to seep into his skin, the pain hit Draco like a hailstorm and his brain started working again. Clumsily, he swam, breaking the surface, gasping for breath. Gunnar was hovering a few metres above him swishing his wand from side to side, with the snitch doing the same thing. 

"One thing I think I forgot to mention Draco," said Gunnar, as Draco tried to tread water and stop from being pulled under again due to the weight of his completely saturated robes, "The snitch is still in play under water." 

Draco would have said something but he was too cold. 

"Again," said Gunnar, shooting Draco his rehearsed smile before flying up towards the sky. Draco glanced around and saw his broom floating beside him. Angrily, he snatched his broom and hauled himself out of the water. 

          By the time practice had ended, Draco was convinced he had hypothermia. Gunnar had made him dive in the lake about 16 times and the water hadn't gotten any warmer. His sopping wet robes clung to his ice-cold skin and left a trail of water behind him as he made his way to the dorms. Comforting thoughts of fire and Gunnar frozen under the lake were interrupted when Draco heard someone say his name.

"Draco?"

Draco glanced over his shoulder with his disheveled, wet hair sticking to the side of his face. That girl, Monika, was staring at him curiously. She offered a timid wave.

"Hi." 

Draco didn't say anything. Monika looked at his robes and gave him a small grin. 

"Let me guess… Quidditch practise?"

Draco nodded condescendingly. 

Monika bobbed her head up and down as she tried to keep the conversation flowing.  

"Oh, cool. Yeah… so what team are you in?"

"Cronus," replied Draco. He didn't bother disguising the edge of annoyance in his voice. Normally he would've made some cutting remark to get rid of her, but at the moment he was too tired. However if he walked off, he had a feeling that she would just follow him. She was already beaming because he said one word.

"REALLY? Wow, they've been this school's Quidditch champions for years! You know the seeker for the Bulgarian team, Viktor Krum used to be play for them! You must be really good. Not saying that I didn't think you wouldn't be anyway…."

Monika was really starting to get on Draco's nerves now and he began thinking of the quickest possible way to shake her off.

"I hear the captain, Gunnar Eszes always pushes everyone on that team really hard. But I suppose that's what it takes to win. So, you know, the work does pay off. You don't have to worry," she told him, smiling reassuringly.

"I won't," said Draco. The smile faded from Monika's face and she bit her lip nervously. 

Draco glared at her.

"Are you finished?" 

The question implied that the conversation was over whether she was done or not. Monika blushed. Relieved that he finally got her to shut up, Draco spun on his heel, his wet robes swishing as he turned. A spray of water caught Monika as Draco walked away and left her by herself out in the cold.

N.B ARGH!!! How long did this one take to get out? Major slackage on my part. In case anyone's noticed the other chapters have been revised and AGAIN I'm not happy with this chapter. I tried to make it long because I don't know when the next one's coming out either. Sorry. 

Many many thanks to all those who gave reviews. If only they could help get rid of my procrastination. *sigh* 


	7. In The Shape Of Things To Come

For I Am A Wicked Child

_Horseface_

****

***CHAPTER SEVEN***__

_In The Shape Of Things To Come_

As the days passed by Draco began to wonder what he ever liked about Quidditch. Gunnar held daily practices for Cronus, which was made up of the same 6th year Midnight Quidditch team. Draco often found himself bearing the brunt of these practices, always ending up soaked to the bone by the end of the two hours. The only good thing to come of it was that Professor Marconi seemed to have a lot more faith in Draco as a seeker, after seeing Draco catch the snitch in less than a minute in gale force winds. 

The consistent practices paid off in the end however and Draco found that he was more than prepared for the team's first game against Hyperion. Since Durmstrang didn't have any houses, the Quidditch teams were also picked differently. There were only four teams, Hyperion, Cronus, Iapetus and Crius and the players on those teams were selected by four of Durmstrang's professors. Ideally, this was supposed to make the level of skill on each team equal, except everyone knew that the two top teams were Cronus and Iapetus, Marconi and Dimitar's teams.    

The game was already decided before the Quaffle was released. The Cronus chasers had already gained a strong lead in the first 9 minutes, before Draco captured the snitch, quickly ending the game before the tenth minute had passed. The final score had ended up being 220 to 30 and Draco's popularity had shot through the roof. Girls clamored for his attention and even the 7th years grudgingly admitted that he did have a certain amount of skill. Draco smirked as he mused over the effects one Quidditch game had in Elite DADA class. 

"I should've come to this school a long time ago," he thought. 

His reflection was suddenly interrupted when a blue fireball materialized in the middle of the room and the face of the Headmaster, Professor Vertov appeared. Draco had no idea what was going on, but from the look on his face Vertov didn't seem to be too pleased about whatever it was. 

"All students are to report to the hall. Immediately," barked Vertov, before the fire extinguished itself. 

Draco let his head loll back, grimacing. The rest of the class voiced his inner opinion with moans of complaint.

"At least I get out of class," he thought, as he lazily got up out of his seat and walked with the rest of the class to the hall.   

          The hall was buzzing with students talking amongst themselves. No one had any clue as to why the assembly had been called. At the same time Draco sat down at his table, where the others were already seated, Vertov entered the hall, unconventionally walking in from the main entrance. The sound of his footsteps echoed as the hall had suddenly fallen completely silent. As he passed by Draco's table, Draco noted that Vertov's face was blank, but the teachers walking behind him looked livid. Upon reaching the staff table, Vertov took his place behind the table, but did not sit down. Narrowing his eyes, he surveyed the room slowly, making eye contact with every student in the hall. Vertov nodded to the back of the hall and two teachers slammed the heavy wooden doors shut, eliciting a few frightened shrieks from various students. Draco looked over at Nikolas who could only reply with an uneasy shrug. A small movement from Damek caught Draco's eye and he looked over to see Damek suppressing what seemed to be a grin. Draco shook his head and turned back to the front of the hall.

"No doubt you are all wondering why you have been called here so suddenly," started Vertov,"Normally I wouldn't call an assembly so abruptly, but these are hardly normal circumstances." 

Vertov paused for a moment before continuing. 

"A small group of Druden have been set free inside the school." 

Draco remained calm as other students around him began talking frantically. A Druden was a female demon that was capable of giving nightmares to sleepers, which doesn't sound too bad, except that the nightmares were very vivid and it was common for victims of the Druden to die in their sleep. Draco knew this because he'd once overheard one of his father's conversations, where he was discussing the best way to 'dispose' of someone without any incriminating evidence. Draco was pretty sure this wasn't just a hypothetical discussion. He turned his attention back to Vertov, who was advising students what to do when confronted with the Druden. 

"The dorm rooms have been enchanted to keep out Druden, but at the moment they are still at large. When I find out who is responsible for this…" 

Draco unintentionally caught Dimitar's eyes at that moment, and the Professor glared at him suspiciously. Vertov however was eyeing the entire school, who were all being quieter than the dead. 

"…I will personally see to their punishment. " 

Vertov straightened up. "Now get back to your classes."  

Slowly students began filing out of the hall talking worriedly about the Druden, but others were more interested in who had released them in the first place, as well as exactly what Vertov's punishment would entail. 

Draco and the others said nothing, but he noticed that Gunnar kept looking at Damek, before clearing his throat while Damek kept his head down and was uncharacteristically quiet. Eventually the group separated, making their ways back to their respective classes, but as Draco was moving up the stairs, Professor Dimitar appeared in front of him. 

"Malfoy," said Dimitar, "Follow me." 

It was somewhat ironic that Draco found Dimitar's humorless tone to be amusing. 

"All right." 

Draco followed Dimitar to the first floor and down a long corridor. Draco recognised it as the one from the previous time he had seen Dimitar acting somewhat agitatedly. Dimitar ended up leading Draco to the very same niche in the wall. Inside the niche was a small carving in the wall of an eye in the centre of circle. Dimitar looked over his shoulder at Draco. 

"Step back," he commanded. 

Draco remained where he was, only moving as the Professor's scowl deepened. Dimitar faced the wall again and quietly whispered something into the wall. However, after playing as Seeker for so many years, Draco's senses had been heightened and he managed to make out that the words, "_Oderint dum metuant._" 

The eye in the circle glowed orange for a moment before turning to stone once again and suddenly, the wall slid open, revealing a small doorway to walk through. Dimitar motioned for Draco to follow him and soon enough Draco had passed through the entrance and the wall slid shut behind him. 

_"Admodum Lumos." _

Several torches on the wall lit up at once and Draco could see that they were in someone's office. The room wasn't that big, but it was able to fit a desk in the centre, which was scattered with papers, quills and jars. Two bookshelves ran along the left and right walls, carrying thick spell books and deadly looking potions. Dimitar took a seat behind his desk. Draco sat down in a black dragon hide leather armchair, casually throwing one arm over the back.

"Nice office Professor. Although, I am confused about all the secrecy. What exactly do you have to hide?" asked Draco, flippantly. 

Dimitar wasn't impressed at Draco's attempt at small talk and ignored the question. "You're laughing now Mr. Malfoy, but I doubt you'll be laughing after Vertov sees you." 

"Why's that Professor?" asked Draco with false sincerity.

Dimitar chuckled to himself and shook his head. "Mr. Malfoy, the sooner you come clean… the sooner you can face your punishment." 

Draco realised that Dimitar thought he had released the Druden. He inwardly sneered as he suspected the only reason Dimitar had looked to Draco to put the blame on was because of the animosity the Professor had towards him. Feigning ignorance Draco said, "I don't understand what you mean. I'm afraid you're going to have to be a bit more specific."

"You know exactly what I mean!" roared Dimitar, suddenly exploding, "I know that you released those Druden, thinking you were soooo clever and funny!!" He paused and looked at Draco with disdain, "You're just like your egotistical father, thinking you can get away with anything."

Draco furrowed his brow. "What do you know about my father?"

Dimitar's face contorted in a cross between a sneer and a grin, as he raised the sleeve of his robes. The Dark Mark was firmly imprinted on his arm. Draco should've known. Dimitar's sadistic tendencies and menacing presence were a dead giveaway.  

"Your father thinks he's untouchable just because he's favoured by the Dark Lord," said Dimitar. He turned away from Draco, facing the wall. "Not for long though," he said quietly.

Draco was starting to get uneasy. It was becoming more obvious that being alone in a room with Dimitar as well as being Lucius Malfoy's son wasn't the smartest position to be in. Fortunately, a loud knocking resounded from outside Dimitar's office and the professor went to answer it. As he opened the entrance, Professor Marconi quickly stepped in. 

"Professor Dimitar, would you care to explain to me as why Draco is being kept in your office instead of in my class?" 

Dimitar's mouth drew into a thin line as he said," I don't see why you need to have bothered leaving your class for one student."

"And I don't see any reason as to why Draco should be here in the first place," retorted Marconi. Dimitar huffed indignantly. 

"I have reason to believe that Draco is responsible for releasing the Druden."

"Really," said Marconi, not at all convinced, "And what reason would that be?"

Dimitar didn't have a reply. The faintest sign of a smirk was visible on Professor Marconi's features. He turned his head towards where Draco was sitting. 

"Draco, did you release the Druden?" 

"No sir, I did not," replied Draco. Marconi nodded and turned back to Dimitar who wasn't at all convinced. 

"May I have a word with you outside, Professor?" asked Marconi. 

The two teachers both stepped outside, Dimitar giving Draco one last glare as he left. As soon as they'd disappeared from his view, Draco snickered. It was good to know that he wasn't the only one who didn't like Dimitar. As Draco settled back into his chair, something on Dimitar's desk caught his eye. Underneath the many layers of parchment, the corner of a thick book stuck out. Curiously Draco lifted the many papers stacked on top of it and had a look.

It was the same book that Draco had seen Dimitar with the other day. The cover was made from black leather that had faded with age and the patches Draco has seen turned out to be intricate red designs. Standing up to get a closer look, Draco was especially intrigued by the patterns on the cover. The stylized grim and vulture that appeared in the corners were a clear sign that this particular book wasn't for children. In the centre of the cover was an infinity sign with a shortened Lorraine cross directly above it, the alchemical symbol for Brimstone. Discerning from the above details, the book in question was one used for spells, or more specifically, spells pertaining to the darker side of magic. Draco was tempted to read it, but the sound of approaching footsteps warned him the Professor's were making their way back and Draco sat back down, adopting a bored look on his face. Draco glanced over his shoulder and respectfully stood up as Marconi and Dimitar entered the office. Dimitar glared at Draco. 

"On your way Malfoy," he spat.

Draco kept his face perfectly blank as he strode past Dimitar. Although Draco was so self assured he would've normally smirked in Dimitar's face, he decided to keep it to himself as Dimitar looked ready to kill and seeing as he was a Deatheater, it was unlikely he'd have any problem with it. Professor Marconi made his exit after Draco and as soon as the two of them were out of Dimitar's office, the wall swiftly slammed shut. 

Draco turned to Marconi and grinned.

"Why Professor, I didn't know you cared so much." 

"I didn't do it for you," replied Marconi, seriously "I did it for Cronus. Dimitar's had it in for the team ever since last year when we managed to win the final even though his team Iapetus caught the snitch." 

The two of them began walking down the hallway to Marconi's classroom. 

"It's unfortunate that not only does he have a grudge against your father, you happen to be my new seeker." Professor Marconi smiled smugly, "But it's not totally devoid of humour." 

As the two of them reached the door to Marconi's classroom, the teacher stopped Draco before he went in. 

"Be careful Draco," advised Marconi, "No doubt there are some who would benefit from your downfall." 

He paused before adding, "And I don't want to have to look for another seeker." 

Opening the door, Professor Marconi stepped inside the classroom, where the students were practising spells for exposing objects that had been magically hidden. Draco remained outside, casting a glance down the hall in the direction of Dimitar's office. Resolving to watch his back more carefully from now on, Draco went inside.

          After the class had finished, Draco left with Elisabet and Nikolas. The three of them were making their way down the hall to the link leading to the dorms when Professor Safford, Draco's Dark Art's teacher, directed them to the staircase. 

"You'll have to make your way to the dorms on the ground floor. There's a Druden near the link on this floor and we can't have students going down there until we contain it," explained Safford. 

Grudgingly they obliged and began to make their way down the staircase. As the three continued descending, Draco spotted that girl Monika below them, standing near the side of the staircase. She seemed to be in some sort of an argument with two of her friends. Draco held up his hand, gesturing for the others to stop as he moved closer to hear what they were talking about. Placing his hands on the rail, he leaned over slightly so he could eavesdrop better. 

"… You just can't. We're not trying to be mean ok? Its just… look at who he hangs out with," said one of her friends. The other one nodded in agreement. 

"She's right. I mean, I can see why you'd like him though. What with that silvery blonde hair and those gorgeous blue eyes…" 

It didn't take a mind reading charm to figure out whom they were talking about. Draco smirked at the girl's appreciative description. 

"Oh please," muttered Nikolas, rolling his eyes.

"Jealous?" said Draco, pretending to act sympathetic.

Nikolas sneered, "Oh shut up."

Draco looked back to where the girl was still talking about him.

"And perfect bone structure and he's got that GREAT seeker build… Ow!" 

A sharp nudge from her friend and a stern look quickly got the girl to stop rambling and get back to the point, "But what I mean to say is, judging from his friends he's not exactly the nicest guy at Durmstrang."

Monika folded her arms resentfully, "How would you know? You're probably too preoccupied with his looks to notice anything else." 

As her friend flushed a deep crimson, the other girl tried to talk to her, "Look, Mon, you don't need to get defensive. We really are only trying to look out for you. I mean… you don't even know Draco."

Monika sighed heavily and put her head in her hands for a moment. She looked up at her friends, running her hands over her hair and down to rest on her neck. 

"You don't understand. I might not have talked to him much but, well… I mean he's… look there's just something about him ok? Whenever I see him, I… I completely lose my composure and I can't think." She sighed again and looked away pensively.

"It's too hard to explain."

"**Try**."

Monika jerked her head up towards the staircase where Draco was smirking down at her. Draco watched amusedly as Monika stared at him in horrified shock, before quickly fleeing with her friends going after her. Elisabet had a slight smile on her face as she watched Monika flee. She turned towards Draco and gave him a rare smile of approval. Nikolas, however, was watching Monika run away with a look of worry.

Draco shook his head disapprovingly. 

"What is it?" said Draco, in a tone more associated with contempt than concern.

"Was that really necessary?" frowned Nikolas.

"Well if you're so worried about it, feel free to go after her and wipe away her tears of lamentation," mocked Draco. He scoffed, before adding, "It's not like I'm about to do so anytime soon." 

Inner conflict was etched on Nikolas' face and Draco raised an eyebrow at him. Nikolas closed his eyes resignedly, nodding slowly. Draco smirked and together the three of them made their way to the dorms, with Draco leading them.

          By nightfall, the staff had rounded up most of the Druden but there were still a few at large. Although the dorms had been magically protected many of the students were still too uneasy to think about going to sleep. Draco wasn't particularly concerned with the demons, but with all the chaos going on around him, it didn't seem he would get the opportunity to sleep anyway. Instead he stayed in the common room, choosing to read a book. He was just beginning to get into it when Damek leaned over the back of his chair and in a drawling voice said, "Maaaalfoooooy."

"Damek," replied Draco. He continued reading and without looking up, he said, "Enjoying the effect your Druden have had on the school?" 

"Uh…" 

Damek had been caught off guard.

 "What are you talking about?"

"You know, you're a terrible liar," quipped Draco.

"Hey! I am innoce… oh screw it," said Damek, giving up all pretenses. "How'd you know?" 

"I told you," said Draco, "You're a terrible liar."

Draco glanced up at the sound of laughter. All the other boys from Cronus were there, with broomsticks. Draco's face scrunched up. He really wasn't in the mood to play Midnight Quidditch at the moment.

"Don't tell me we're playing the 7th year's again." 

Gunnar crinkled his nose and shook his head. "Not tonight. You interested in a raid?"

Draco shrugged and turned another page in his book. "That all depends. Where are you planning to go?"

Gunnar grinned, "Girls dorms."

Draco looked back at him in disdain. He'd gotten over raiding girls dorms in 4th year. At Hogwarts there didn't seem any point seeing as how they were a few metres away. Now that the prospect had presented itself again, it was a case of 'Been there, Done That and Don't Plan On Doing It Again Anytime Soon.' 

Draco shook his head, "That's far too beneath me."

Several Come on Draco's were said and Gunnar put his hand on his hips. 

"Come on. It'll be fun." 

Draco shook his head again. "Not interested." Then as an afterthought he added, "Don't drag me along just because you want to visit your girlfriend."

Gunnar's mouth tightened at that remark. "Fine," he said, "You leave me no choice. If you don't go, I'll play Ivan as seeker in the next game."

Ivan's cry of outrage was ignored as Draco stared back coolly at Gunnar. 

"Are you blackmailing me?" 

Gunnar nodded haughtily, "Yes I am."

There didn't seem to be any other way out. Draco scowled, disgusted with himself for getting dragged into this.

"Fine."

Gunnar grinned cheekily. "On your broom then."

          As Gunnar knocked on the window to the girls' dorms and the boys hovered on their brooms outside, Draco's face reflected his feelings of disgruntlement. The curtains in the window were drawn back and a girl's head appeared. As soon as she caught sight of Gunnar she shrieked and quickly pulled the curtains back into place. Soon several shrieks could be heard inside the room, only serving to increase Draco's sentiments of annoyance. He was just about to turn his broom around and go back when someone opened the window letting the boys in. Reluctantly Draco entered the dorm. It was similar to the layout of the boys' dorms except the colours used to decorate the room were warmer and the fire pillars were placed in the corners of the room. Gunnar was talking to one girl Draco recognised as having been at the Midnight Quidditch game. 

"Where's Elisabet?" he asked. 

The girl bit her lip thoughtfully, "I think she's in her room."

 Pointing her head towards the area where the rooms were, she yelled, "ELISABET!! You've got a visitor!" She looked back at the boys, who were all making themselves comfortable on the couches. 

"Several in fact." 

As the girl's eyes roamed over the faces of the boys, they came to a halt as she noticed Draco. "Draco Malfoy?" she asked. 

Draco smirked, "You seem surprised."

The girl shook her head, smiling, " I didn't think you'd be the type to raid."

"I'm not," countered Draco, "but Gunnar is…" he paused as he searched for the right words, "persuasive."

The girl laughed at his description of Gunnar, "Diplomatic choice of words."       

"All right, that's enough," said Gunnar, interjecting and thus successfully turning the conversation off him, "Draco, this is Greta. Greta, you obviously know who Draco is."

Greta nodded patronisingly at him. "Yes Gunnar. You're right."

"That's a first." 

Draco looked over to see Elisabet standing to one side, wearing a mid length cotton night robe. Gunnar stood up and walked over to her, sliding his hands around her waist and bringing his head down to hers. After exchanging a few words, the two of them began to make their way back to the dorm rooms. Draco's eyes widened slightly. Seems the raid wasn't the only thing Gunnar had planned. 

"By the way Draco," said Greta, "That was impressive how you captured the snitch." 

Draco smirked, "Are you talking about last week or the 'other' game?"

Greta grinned sheepishly, "You saw me there?"

Draco nodded. Andres, who sitting beside him, gave Draco a quick nudge and said, "Don't be deceived by her Draco. She's with the enemy." 

He was silenced by a cushion that was sent his way, courtesy of Greta. 

"I stand by my choice," she said, "My boyfriend's a much better chaser than anyone on Cronus. And 7th year boys are so much better than 6th years."

"Not at everything," retorted Draco. As Greta laughed at his suggestive comment, another girl appeared from the dorm rooms.

"Urgh," said Greta, "It's Monika."

Monika was scratching her head, looking confused at the sight of boys in the common room, before she met eyes with Draco. She froze as he looked at her boredly, before giving her the once over and smirking. Monika looked down at herself and realised the state of dishevelment she was in. With a shriek, she scurried back to the dorms. Greta watched her go and then looked back at Draco before bursting into laughter, "So _you're _the guy she likes!!!" 

"Bloody hell," cursed Draco as Greta clutched her shaking sides. Beginning to calm down, Greta held up her hand as a gesture of apology, "Sorry. It's just… well she's been acting like such a ditz these past couple of weeks. She's always prancing around in a daze, bumping into things. And come to think of it… she's been sketching lots of pictures of dragons with hearts around them."

"Oh, that's _wonderful _to hear just how serious her obsession with me is," said Draco sarcastically.

Greta giggled again, "She really likes you though."

Draco shrugged, "I could care less."

Greta grinned maliciously. 

"Oh Draco. It's a pity you're in 6th year." 

          The night drew on and slowly the common room grew emptier as boys flew back to the dorms and girls went to sleep. Greta, herself had just left to go to sleep and Draco was currently sitting with his feet up on the couch, too tired to fly back to his room. Shutting his eyes, he soon felt a presence standing over him. As he lazily opened his eyes to find himself staring at Elisabet, he also took note of her appearance. She wasn't wearing anything on her feet and her unruly hair matched her night robe, which seemed to be haphazardly thrown on. He closed his eyes again. 

"You look… worn out," said Draco, emphasising the last two words. Elisabet scoffed.

"Your wit is astoundingly not funny," she retorted, before yanking his legs off the couch. Draco's eyes snapped open and he would've moved his feet back to where they were, except Elisabet was now occupying the space. 

"Enjoy your little conversation with Greta?" asked Elisabet.

"Immensely," replied Draco, his voice lacking the enthusiasm to back up his words, "Her company's actually enjoyable, unlike some other people I know." 

"Yeah," said Elisabet, nodding her head thoughtfully "I can't stand Ivan either." 

Draco turned to look at her, as she smiled impishly. He turned away, with a small conceding smile. It was surprising to see her so off guard and relaxed for once. He watched as Elisabet leaned over and grabbed a dark velvet bag off the small table in front of the couch. Raising it up so that it was beside her head, she turned to Draco and shook the bag up and down. "Want me to read your fortune?" 

Draco stared at her in surprise. He really wasn't used to this side of her. Then again it was only the second time he'd been alone with her, and the other time didn't count seeing as how they were hiding out in a Quidditch stand. He shook his head, declining her offer. Elisabet brought the bag down into her other hand. 

"Come on," she pleaded. She raised a hand and made a wiping motion with it, acting as though she were in a trance, "I can see… into the future…"

Draco was too stuffed to be bothered arguing about something so trivial. "Yeah, all right then."

Elisabet began to roll the bag over in her hands. Draco's thoughts wandered back to what she had said earlier about Ivan. Deciding this was as good a time as any he asked, "Did you really attach Ivan to the bed?" 

"No," replied Elisabet indignantly. A moment passed before she smiled slyly and said, "I got Damek to do it for me."

After turning the bag over one final time, Elisabet began to untie the cords that bound the top of the bag closed. Draco's eyes lazily followed her as she moved over to the rug and sat down. Holding the bag in one hand, she quickly smoothed over the rug with the other before she gestured for Draco to come sit down with her.

"You have to cast the runes yourself." 

Draco reluctantly got up and sat down beside her. Taking the bag from her, he halfheartedly poured the runes out of the bag and onto the rug. Elisabet rolled her eyes at Draco's lack of enthusiasm. Moving her legs so that she could rest her head on one knee, she looked down at the runes and began to decipher their meanings. Draco reclined back onto his elbows. The quiet atmosphere and warmth of the room was actually quite relaxing, not to mention Elisabet's different attitude and the fact she wasn't acting like an ice queen. Draco suddenly felt a lot more comfortable with expressing whatever was on his mind. "I wasn't aware that you took Divination," he said.

Elisabet shrugged, "I don't take it anymore. My father felt it was best if I broadened my choice of subjects."

Draco raised his eyebrows at her. 

"Your father hmm?" questioned Draco, in pseudo interest. The memory of the night when she'd ridiculed his own father was brought back to his mind and the fact that it had now been spun around on her was highly entertaining. Elisabet's head snapped towards his as the recollection of the same memory hit her. Biting her lip, she smiled guiltily and turned back to the runes. 

"Yes. _My Father_." 

Draco was grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Oh the irony of it all." 

He looked over at Elisabet who just huffed and pursed her lips together. After seeing her reaction, Draco continued pushing the topic, "So why did… _your father_ make you drop it, seeing as you obviously like it so much?"

"We can't do everything we want," she said quietly. For a moment that distant look she wore so often appeared in her eyes again. The look was gone as soon as she blinked and said, "And he doesn't believe in fate."

Draco couldn't help sniggering. His father shared the same belief. It seemed most wealthy men liked to think they had gotten where they were on their own and not because of some divine higher power. Draco briefly wondered if he would ever get to be _that_ arrogant. Draco looked back at Elisabet. 

"What do you believe?" he asked.

Elisabet didn't meet his eyes as she softly said, "We can't avoid our destiny."

Draco momentarily wondered if there was more meaning in her words. Looking back at the Runes he decided to get back to the reason why he was lying on the floor. 

"But it seems you can delay destiny. Are you finished yet? Honestly, the future will have already happened by the time you get around to predicting it."

Elisabet glared at him before she began to read the Runes. 

"Something's going to happen to you in the future. It's hard to say if it's good or bad, because the Ansuz rune is reversed, showing lies and deceit but the Teiwaz rune has also been cast, which stands for justice. Both the sowelu and Gebo show strengthening and significant partnership. The next rune… Raido, symbolises a journey, which may be spiritual. But this…" 

Elisabet moved her hand towards a rune bearing no symbol of any sort. 

"The Wyrd stone has also been cast. It's the symbol for universal unknowing and unchangeable." 

She flicked her gaze back at Draco.

"Something will happen that you have no control over."

Draco stared at her blankly.

"Are you telling me," he began, "that my future's unknown?"

Elisabet tried not to smile as she nodded. Draco scowled, annoyed at the stupidity in the whole thing. He grabbed a handful of runes and chucked them towards the wall. 

"Relax Draco," said Elisabet as she moved closer to him. Placing a hand on his shoulder she said, "It's only magic." 

Draco looked back at her sneeringly, "Shouldn't you go back to bed? I think Gunnar's getting lonely."

Elisabet leaned back and stared at Draco, her gaze scrutinising. 

"Don't talk about him to me," she said, the cold tone returning to her voice, "You don't know anything about us." 

Draco stared at Elisabet, suddenly aware of what was so blatantly obvious. 

"You don't like him, do you?" he asked. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed that Elisabet merely felt obliged to be with Gunnar. Elisabet glared at Draco. 

"Why are you so concerned with my personal life? I do believe that you have your own matters to deal with, concerning a girl who believes there's just_… something about you that she can't explain_." 

Draco scowled at the mention of Monika. Elisabet continued for the sole reason that she was pissing Draco off, "She's quite rich you know. Her father has a couple of hundred shares in WWN. And she's so pretty and just ever so smart. You're lucky that's she's interested in you Draco. It's quite an honour."  

The only thing that was more annoying than what Elisabet said was the bubbly sweet voice with which she had said it. 

"Then why, may I ask," asked Draco, irritatedly, "do you hate her?"

"Oh," said Elisabet, casually, "because she's a half blood."

NB- And… that's about the nicest Draco's going to get. Hope you weren't too bored. Big thanks to everyone who reviewed. With all sincerity it's really encouraging. I say that now because in the next chapter Draco takes a turn for the worst. I'm talking scheming, discrimination… in short Draco's a very naughty boy. Maybe I should up the rating.           


	8. This Bad Begins And Worse Remains Behind

For I Am A Wicked Child

Horseface

***CHAPTER EIGHT***

This Bad Begins And Worse Remains Behind 

Draco stared at Elisabet skeptically. 

"A half blood. At _Durmstrang_?" 

Elisabet nodded as she began to gather the runes back into the bag. 

"Sick, isn't it?" 

"To say the least," replied Draco. Sneering, he said, "How did she get into this school anyway?"

Elisabet placed the last rune into the bag and tied it up again. Throwing the bag to one side, she turned towards Draco and said, "It's a long story and I'm really tired. I'll tell you later." 

As she began to get up, Draco yanked her back down to the floor. 

"No, tell me now," said Draco. He smirked and said, "Unless of course, you're really that eager to get back to your boyfriend. Then _of course_ this can all wait."

Elisabet's jaw tightened.  

"Fine." 

Standing up she went over and moved to the couch. Gesturing for Draco to do the same she said, "This takes a while. Get comfortable." 

Draco took a seat beside her and propped his feet up on the table. "Go."

"Monika's father," began Elisabet, "As I said before, is a very wealthy man. But, about… 20 years ago, he was just middle class, _but_ he was a pure blood. Around that time, he fell in love with some muggle woman. They get married and for a while they're very happy rah, rah, rah. Unfortunately," 

Elisabet put on a false sympathetic pout, 

"She died giving childbirth. Guess who the brat she gave birth to was?" 

Draco smirked.

"The half blood wonder," he said derisively. Elisabet nodded and continued with her story.

"So the years pass and the father remarries, to a pureblood this time. Little Moni grows up and soon it's time for her to go to a school of magic. But where to put her?" said Elisabet, with her head resting on her hand and her index finger tapping on the side of her jaw, in mock query. 

"Hogwarts and Beauxbatons seem like a good idea. Yet they're just _so _far away from home." 

Elisabet scoffed, "She probably can't speak English or French anyway. So… the only place to put her is, Durmstrang. But wait! Durmstrang doesn't look kindly on half bloods. So to get her into the school, the father claims the new mother is really her biological one and with his money to act as a persuading device, the half blood gets in. End of story."

Draco's face was contorted into a grimace as he absorbed Elisabet's information. Suddenly he began to laugh maliciously. 

"I knew there was something I didn't like about her!" 

Elisabet couldn't help grinning as well. Draco's sniggering eventually faded but he still had a smirk on his face. 

"So how do you know all this?" asked Draco.

Elisabet brought her legs underneath her and began to examine her nails, "It got around a couple of years ago. I think Damek, strangely enough, was the first to know."

Draco stretched out his arms, before placing them behind his head. 

"So she's a half blood _and_ new money," he said disdainfully.

Elisabet smirked, "And don't forget her little infatuation with you." 

Draco sneered in disgust. A thought suddenly occurred to him and he said, "So all things considering, why's Nikolas so sympathetic towards her?"

Elisabet scrunched up her nose, shaking her head, "No idea. That boy acts like he's going for saint of the year."

The first day of school when Nikolas had immediately accepted Draco flickered in Draco's mind for a second. He was about to agree with Elisabet's statement when Gunnar reappeared from the dorms. He wasn't wearing a shirt.

"Hey," he said to Elisabet, as he stood on the other side of the coffee table, "Planning on…" 

He stopped in mid sentence as he caught sight of Draco. Gunnar smirked.

"…Going to sleep anytime soon?" 

Elisabet nodded, her face stoic.

"Yeah. Soon." 

"O-kay," said Gunnar. He looked over at Draco and waved. 

"Night Malfoy."

"Right," replied Draco. 

As soon as Gunnar left, Draco said, "Oh, I definitely felt the love in that little exchange. Wow, it's as if you two are soul mates." 

"Shut up Malfoy," said Elisabet quietly.

"Well it's your own fault," retorted Draco smugly.

Elisabet stared at him and Draco saw that the unapproachable air she always carried was back in place.

"I do what I want to do. Or I do what I have to," said Elisabet. She paused before saying, "You of all people should understand that."

Draco knitted his brows together, slightly perplexed at what she thought. As Elisabet stood up and began to walk back to her dorm, her swinging blonde hair vaguely reminded him of Pansy. Elisabet's words suddenly had new meaning as he thought of the blonde back in England. Their relationship had started because Draco had been forced to start it. By his father. He looked back up to see Elisabet, but she had already disappeared. Draco stood up and grabbed his broom. Opening the window, he partially stepped outside and was soon flying back towards his dorm.

By the next morning, the Druden had all been rounded up and Vertov was still out for blood. Other than Dimitar's suspicion of Draco, none of the teachers had any clue whom to pinpoint it on. Draco had to admit that Damek wasn't completely hopeless when it counted. Eventually, the teachers seemed to forget about what had happened as time continued to move forward, except Professor Vertov who was still incensed that he couldn't find the guilty party. The chances of that were unlikely anyway, since the Christmas holidays were coming up.

One morning, about five weeks away from school break Draco received two letters from England. One was sent by his father, briefly telling him that they were to be spending Christmas at the manor and the other was from Pansy. It was mainly her griping and whining about Hogwarts and asking why he hadn't replied to her last four letters, but she'd also written to tell him that she would be spending Christmas in England and she'd promised to come by his house, knowing he'd be there. Deciding the best way to get her off his back was to comply with her numerous requests for a reply, he penned a letter quickly up in his room. 

_Pansy,_

_       In answer to your question, I've been too busy to write to you. Being seeker for the best team at Durmstrang takes up a lot of my time, not to mention the subjects here are a lot more advanced than at Hogwarts. I'm sure can forgive me. I'll be going back to England for the Christmas holidays. I'm sure you can't wait to see me. _

_Draco_

After sealing the envelope with wax, Draco began to make his way to Durmstrang's owlery. Using the link from the boys' dorms to the school, he began to make his way to the top floor. It only took him five minutes before his owl was flying off towards England. As he stepped out of the Owlery's entrance, he quickly ducked back in as he saw Professor Dimitar walking towards the dorm link. Draco didn't particularly feel like a confrontation with the Deatheater, so he decided to take the link on the floor below. As he walked down the staircase and began to make his way down the corridor, Monika suddenly appeared from a nearby classroom. 

"Draco!" she said, apparently flustered.

Looking at her scornfully, Draco didn't say a word. She was bad enough without being a half blood as well. He began to walk towards the link again, before he heard Monika curse and start to follow him.

"Draco… wait. Please Draco,"

 Monika's pleas only served to make Draco walk faster. Just as he reached the door of the link, Monika stepped in front, blocking his path. Draco took a step back, while Monika stumbled with something to say.

"Draco…I…what I said on the stairs was… REALLY embarrassing. For both of us," she blushed.

Draco rolled his eyes and looked back down the hallway, wondering if it was worth the bother to go to another level and use that link, when he could just shove this girl out of the way. He looked back at her, where she was still talking.

"… And then you were in my dorm, which didn't go well either… but, that's not the point." 

Monika took a deep breath, and with an expression of complete seriousness, she said, "What I said, was probably quite a surprise. I mean, my friends think I'm insane, but how I feel… inside… "

She looked up at him earnestly.

"It's real."

Draco still didn't say anything. Not knowing what to do, Monika tried to explain, "I know I don't know you very well. I haven't really had the chance to say anything to you either, since I don't see you alone very often. Plus sometimes… you seem kind of... unapproachable. But… I…it's just…"

Monika lowered her eyes as she struggled to find the right words. Draco looked down his nose at her, grudgingly curious about what she had to say.

"Just what."

Monika shook her head resignedly, unable to answer him. Draco rolled his eyes and huffed irately, annoyed that she had wasted his time. He was about to make one of his signature snide comments, when the two of them were interrupted.

"Mr Malfoy."

Professor Marconi was standing a few feet away.

"A word?" 

Draco nodded and as he followed Professor Marconi, he could feel Monika watching him as he walked away.

       Draco and Professor Marconi made their way down the hall, before coming up to an old wooden door. Draco followed the teacher inside the room, which turned out to be another office. Papers were scattered all over the desk and there were a couple of paintings hanging on the wall. Draco surveyed the room incredulously.

"It's a bit plain for an Illusionary Magic teacher isn't it? I've heard that teacher's are undervalued but this is a bit much."

"It's not my office," said Marconi frankly.

"Really?" asked Draco, suddenly finding the environment a lot more interesting.

"Sit down," directed Marconi as he parked himself behind the desk, which didn't belong to him.

Draco took a seat, wondering what the Professor was up to. He recalled the last time he'd been in Professor Dimitar's office, where threats had been made and sanity had been lost. Draco was hoping that his second visit to a teacher's office would turn out slightly better. However Marconi's next question did nothing to calm those fears.

"How's your father Draco?"

"He's well," replied Draco suspiciously. He wondered what the Professor was really getting at.

"That's good," said Marconi, "What were you talking to Monika about?"

"Nothing," said Draco, mentally adding, "_Nothing that I wanted to know_."

Professor Marconi nodded slowly, as if deep in thought. 

"You don't like her, do you?"

Draco remained silent. Despite the fact he was right, it was not his business to ask. Noting Draco's unwillingness to answer Marconi continued.

"You had that look on your face.  Contempt, hatred and superiority rolled into one. It must be genetic, for I've seen it on your father's face." 

_'Another reference to father,'_ noted Draco. He sneered disdainfully at the Professor.

"A little too interested in the antics of students aren't you?" 

Marconi ignored Draco's attempt to digress from the topic.

"If you dislike the girl Draco, at least do it for decent reasons." 

Draco eyed the Professor suspiciously.

"What's your point Professor?"

Professor Marconi looked at him pointedly.

"Are you asking me to insult your intelligence by answering that question for you?"

Draco's eyebrows rose as he smirked at the man's audacity. Professor Marconi leaned towards Draco, his voice becoming quieter. 

"I'm fully aware of who your friends are, and who their parents are. As well as yours."

Waving his hand in the air, Draco asked, "Specifically…you're referring to…"

"This prejudice against anyone who isn't pureblood," replied Marconi.

For a second the room was completely silent before Draco started to laugh.

"Oh you've got to be kidding." 

Professor Marconi sat and it was only when Draco caught sight of Marconi's humorless expression that he regained his composure.

"So…this is why you called me into someone else's office? To discuss social issues and personal morality?"

Draco shook his head amusedly. Catching the Professor's stern expression Draco rolled his eyes.

"Oh come on," said Draco incredulously, "You teach at Durmstrang and you're trying to sell me the benefits of integration with them? Not to mention, how you kicked out a student out of your class on the first day of school. For no good reason. Forgive me for failing to take you seriously."

"That boy is an idiot. I taught him two years ago and he can't distinguish the top end of his wand from the bottom. I was doing him a favour."

Draco let out a disbelieving laugh, causing Marconi's eyebrows to knit together.

"There is no way he would have done well in Illusionary Magic. He's much better off in another class."

"Oh, I'm sure he is," drawled Draco, grinning snidely.

The Professor paused, knowing he wasn't anywhere near convincing Draco. His scowl began to dissolve into an expression of consideration. Slowly, he reclined into his chair and watched Draco, tapping the side of his jaw with one finger. 

"Perhaps you're onto something Draco. Maybe I'm wrong about this."

Draco's expression told the Professor that he thought so too. Marconi nodded thoughtfully.

"Pure blood, Half blood, mud blood. It makes hate so much easier when everyone's categorized."

Marconi looked bluntly at Draco. 

"For people who are too stupid to think for themselves."

Marconi shook his head in mock sympathy, "How you can't see through this is beyond me."

Draco stilled as he suddenly thought of Hogwarts. Slytherins were all purebloods, but none of them had struck Draco as anything particularly special. He remembered Weasley and Longbottom, who were also from a wizarding family but were completely useless at everything. The Professor had a point, and deep down Draco knew that. He just didn't care. Draco shook his head; disappointed that he was hearing this speech from the one Professor he actually liked.

"Goodbye Professor," he said, as he stood up to leave.

Professor Marconi reclined into the back of his chair as Draco turned to go.

"And I thought you were much better than all those Deatheaters," he said flippantly.

Draco paused. Rolling his head back toward the ceiling, he sighed and said, "I can't believe you're trying to feed me this sentimental unity crap." 

Very unexpectedly, Marconi laughed at Draco's suggestion.

"Hardly. I'm not telling you to love the world, Draco. Believe me, I'm the last person to start telling you that."

Draco stared at the Professor skeptically, "That's the only thing you've been doing for the past half hour."

Marconi clucked his tongue, "You really have no concept of what I'm saying do you?"

"I don't think you do either," said Draco.

Marconi brought his hands together and rested his chin upon them as he began to talk. 

"Draco, it's not about what's right and wrong, it's about what's smart. If you don'tthink for yourself, you'll become another mindless drone, acting on behalf of someone else's insanity." 

He paused before adding, "Unless that's what you want, Malfoy."

Professor Marconi smirked.

"To really be your father's son."

Draco's scowl deepened as Marconi mentioned his father again. It seemed everyone at Durmstrang spoke of Lucius as though he was an insult. 

"What would a school teacher like you know about my father?" spat Draco.

Professor Marconi chuckled.

"I've met your father on occasion," said Marconi, "And I know him well enough to see the reasoning behind Professor Dimitar's madness."

"Yet I still have yet to figure out the logic behind yours," retorted Draco, directing a glare at the Professor as he got up and left.

       Students parted as Draco stormed down the hallway on his way back to the dormitory. To say he was upset was a joke. Marconi had really pissed him off, trying to feed Draco his pretensions about how hating mudbloods was pointless. The way he'd had spoken, knowing that what he was saying was actually getting to Draco. And what was with that stuff about his father? Marconi was just another nobody compared to Lucius. Draco's father was one of the richest, powerful and revered wizards he knew. And with his father's connections Draco had met a lot of them. Lucius Malfoy was one of the most important people in Draco's life. One of few that Draco respected. So how come… when it came down to it… Draco didn't want to be like him? 

Shoving that feeling of ringing truth aside as he climbed the stairs to the 6th year level, Draco shoved the door to the dorm wide open, only to find it empty. Taking a seat in one of the common room chairs, Draco shut his eyes and brought a hand to his forehead. Draco sat quietly, wishing for a few minutes of solitude, when Nikolas appeared, dashing his hopes.

"Hey, where is everybody?" asked Nikolas.

"Don't know, don't care," snapped Draco.  
As Nikolas held up his hands to show he was backing off, Elisabet entered the room. Her long robes trailed gently behind her as she walked purposely towards Draco. Placing both her hands on the armrests to either side of him Elisabet leaned down, looking directly into Draco's eyes. 

"She's been moping all afternoon and now she's gone and locked herself up in her room, terribly upset over something. And no one knows what," said Elisabet. She grinned.

"So naturally, I figure that you're involved."

Nikolas eyed both of them questioningly. "Are you talking about Monika?" he asked, a thread of concern discernible in his voice. Neither of them replied. Nikolas sighed in disgust.

"Would you two just leave her alone?" he cried, shaking his hands in the air.

The two of them continued to act as if he didn't exist. Elisabet shook her head at Draco, smiling at the same time.

"You're terrible."

Draco smirked. Nikolas kept on ranting, and Draco and Elisabet continued to ignore him, when one of the windows suddenly flew open and a beautiful Masked owl flew in. Circling once around the room, it came to rest on the chair next to Draco while a letter gently floated down to settle on Draco's lap. 

Elisabet regarded the bird suspiciously.

"I know this owl," she said, as she tried to recall who the owner was. 

Draco had already broken the letter's light purple seal and was skimming over the first few lines of the letter. Nikolas scoffed at Elisabet's comment, before giving the bird a gentle pat, "Of course you do. It's…"

"Monika's," finished Draco.

_Draco,_

_If you're reading this, don't throw it away. At least wait until you've finished._

_Everyone I know is telling me it's pointless to like you. That I have no chance whatsoever with you. That you can't be touched. But I can't shake this feeling that maybe there's more to you than people say. Somewhere beneath the aloof image you project, there's something more tangible. And I think if someone looked hard enough, they might find it. Or maybe I'm just blind. _

_I know you don't like me. I'd have to be dead not to notice. But I can't change how I feel. It's not a choice for me. I mean honestly, who would like someone that didn't even want to know them?_

_I don't know why I'm telling you. Why I bother setting myself up to fall again and again and again. I don't want to. But it's something I have to do. Because it hurts to stay silent. _

_Monika_

Draco placed the letter down on the armchair rest beside him. The only sound was the ruffle of feathers as Nikolas stroked Monika's owl, while watching Draco anxiously. Elisabet, who had been reading over Draco's shoulder, took a seat on the other armchair. Staring straight ahead, she asked, "What are you going to do now, lover boy?"

Draco's head was swimming. There were a million things running through his head at the moment; the conversation with Marconi, flashes of his childhood with his father rearing him to be a perfect pureblood, memories of Hogwarts and Slytherin house, the prospect of becoming a Deatheater and the fact he was caught in the middle of it. Everyone was controlling his life except him.

And Draco was tired of it. 

Glancing up at Elisabet, he replied, "What I have to."

N.B For once I have a decent reason as to why I delayed the posting of this chapter. I've actually been working on this consistently but it was extremely difficult to write as I kept having second thoughts and then third thoughts as to where to go with the story. Without giving away anything, the upcoming chapters are bound to disappoint, perhaps… dare I say… piss the hell out of some people, but there's more Draco insight as well as development for other characters. 

And ArTeMiS… I wasn't serious about the slash comment. :)  


	9. I Am Not Who I Am

For I Am A Wicked Child

Horseface 

***CHAPTER NINE***

I am not who I am 

Draco watched Monika as she raised her hand to answer yet another question. They were in Dark Arts class and for once Draco was aware of the fact she was a fellow classmate. As she answered the question correctly, Professor Safford showered her with the appropriate platitudes before getting back to teaching the lesson. Draco smirked to himself as the girl beamed at the Professor's empty compliments. Monika actually was quite smart, just as Elisabet had said. Granted she'd said it while she was ridiculing her. 

"Now everyone," said Professor Safford, diverting Draco's attention back to the class, "I want you to copy this down."

As the teacher began to write on the board, Monika smoothed down her piece of parchment, accidentally knocking her quill off the desk. As she bent down to pick it up, she unconsciously looked his way and met his gaze. Monika froze as her eyes connected with his. As the other students were jotting down the Professor's notes, the two of them continued to stare at each other silently until Draco abruptly turned away and dipped his quill in a pot of ink. Monika's cheeks turned bright red and she turned back to face the front. She avoided looking at him but out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw Monika lean over again to grab her quill.

      The rest of the lesson flew by, and soon enough Professor Safford dismissed his DA class. Like always, Draco left quickly and was walking to his next class when he ran into Gunnar.

"Hey Malfoy."

Draco was becoming less fond of people addressing him by his surname. Or maybe it was just Gunnar he wasn't so fond of…

"Eszes," he responded, almost spitefully. As if _Eszes _would notice. 

A shrill shriek behind them caused the boys to turn and check out what was happening.

"Oh come on, give it back!!!" cried Monika. One of her friends was holding her book bag just out of reach, giggling as Monika tried to snatch it back.

"Uh uh. You have to promise to _not_ study for once. Just hang out with us instead," said the other girl.

"Yeah! You work too hard!" added another girl.

Monika sighed and put her hands on her hips. The girl with the bag raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Well?"

Quick as a flash, Monika whipped out her wand and said, "Expelliarmus!"

The bag flew out of the girl's hands and as it sailed through the air, Monika reached out and grabbed it. Safely back in her possession, she slung it over her shoulders before looking at the other girls apologetically.

"I'm sorry, but I _have _to study," she said, "I've got a huge Transfig test in two days and I need to do well on this one.

"But you always do well!" cried one of her friends

"Yeah, because I study!" retorted Monika.

Her friends replied with a chorus of cynical fines and whatever's. Monika sighed, _again_.

"I'm sorry. But if my grades dropped, my father would have a fit."

"O-kaaay!!!" sighed the bag girl, "Geez, imagine what would happen if you ever skipped class."

Monika cringed at the thought and shook her head, trying to get rid of the mental image of her livid father. Bag girl couldn't help but laugh.

"Something bad's going to come out of all this studying you know," she said. 

Monika rolled her eyes.

"What are you, a seer now?"

The girls turned to move and it was then that they finally noticed they had an audience. Both Draco and Gunnar were watching them, amused by their little display. At first they all stood frozen, before bag girl started giggling. Monika's face coloured and she quickly began to make her way down the corridor, in a desperate hurry to get out of there.

As they walked past, Draco was well aware that Monika was looking-but-not-looking at him, while her friends shared a few knowing glances between them. His face remained stoic while Gunnar gave the girls a sly grin. A couple of them giggled. They continued on their way, talking in hushed voices. They were most likely discussing the two boys and analysing what just happened, the way teenage girls do. Gunnar smirked and shook his head, then gestured with a nod to start walking. The two boys fell into step as they began to make their way to their next classes. 

"So. Talked to Marconi?" asked Gunnar.

Draco stopped and glanced at him suspiciously. Had Marconi told Gunnar about their… discussion? Draco couldn't discern an answer from Gunnar's blank expression. 

"All the time," replied Draco, being deliberately vague. 

His evasiveness elicited a smile from Gunnar. A phony one, of course. 

"Well, in any of your conversations, did he happen to mention that there's some big upcoming Quidditch event?"

"What, the finals?" sneered Draco.

For the last couple of practices, Marconi had been constantly grilling the team about the upcoming semi's and the finals. If Draco had to hear about it from Gunnar, he'd hex him and Marconi to the bottom of the damn lake.

Gunnar rolled his eyes, "Not that. There's something else."

Draco came to a halt and turned to face Gunnar. Something else? Marconi hadn't said a word. It must have slipped his mind during his self-righteous lecture to Draco. Gunnar dropped his voice to a low whisper.

"Supposedly, it's happening after Christmas holidays. And there are other…"

Gunnar was interrupted by Dimitar's acerbic voice behind them.

"And _what_, exactly are you two doing, hmm?"

The Professor looked at the pair critically.

 "_Certainly_ you aren't loitering in the hallway. Not when there are classes to attend."  

"Wouldn't dream of it Professor," smiled Gunnar. 

"Careful where you're throwing those accusations Professor," drawled Draco. Unlike Gunnar, he was far less eager to put up a front just to keep Dimitar calm. There would be consequences to pay for sure, but Draco was beginning to find the Professor less intimidating and much more amusing. Something that wasn't at all deliberate on Dimitar's part. 

"Wouldn't want to slip and send them in the wrong direction?"

Draco's smirk was just begging to be slapped off. Dimitar sneered.

"Keep your advice to yourself Mr. Malfoy," he snapped, before changing his tone of voice to one much more scathing and adding, "Or perhaps dispense it to someone more in need of it. Your teammates on Cronus seem like they could use some help."

He looked at Gunnar pointedly.

"Considering who's leading the team."

Even if it was Durmstrang, for a Professor he sure was bitchy. The best thing you could say about him was that he wasn't biased when it came to dishing out his abuse. Everyone got their fair share. 

"The only people who need help will be Iapetus after we slaughter them," said Gunnar, under his breath.

The Professor whipped his head towards Gunnar and glared at him.

"What was that, Mr Eszes?" he demanded.

"We're running late. Don't want to miss our lessons now," answered Gunnar, with a gracious smile.

Dimitar scowled.

"_Of course_." 

Just as they began to walk away, the Professor called out to them.

"Oh, one more thing boys."

The two of them looked over their shoulders to see Dimitar with the corner of his upper lip curled, a warped version of a smile.

You've both got detention."

The boys' faces remained stoic, except for their eyes, which had considerably darkened. Dimitar was grinning.

"You'll be informed of when and where."

Draco gripped his wand tightly, but he made no move to extract it from his robes.

"I'll be looking forward to it," said Draco.

Dimitar chuckled. 

"I'm sure we all are."

With a malicious grin, he turned and walked away. As Dimitar disappeared around a corner, Gunnar scoffed.

"Homo." 

He grinned at Draco, who just nodded.

"Yeah," he said, before heading off by himself to his next class.

      The rest of the day dragged on for Draco, as he forced himself to sit through his classes, which he found more tedious than usual. By the end of the last period, he wanted nothing more than to go to his room and lock the door, so he could be all by himself. But unfortunately, Quidditch practice would not allow it. 

Growling, Draco brought his broom to a sharp stop. Even the frosty winds blowing around him weren't helping to cool him down. He'd never been particularly fond of practice, and that feeling was growing stronger and stronger. He wanted to be alone, yet he wasn't. He was also obligated to attend and based on that fact Draco almost didn't show,since he hated being forced into anything. But he'd turned up. And now, he was surrounded by seven other people, outside on a bleak wintry day. Not to mention he was also eighty feet up in the air.

"A bit tense there, Malfoy?"

Draco eyed Gunnar, who was hovering beside him.

"What's that?" he asked, touchily.

Gunnar didn't seem to be affected at all by Draco's attitude.

"You're flying differently."

It was true. Usually Draco flew very smoothly and precisely, as though every turn of his broom had been calculated carefully. But at the moment, he was zooming all over the place carelessly and his movements were much more jarring. He didn't appreciate Gunnar pointing it out though. 

"Oh, can't the keeper keep up?" said Draco with false sympathy.

Gunnar eyes narrowed slightly, and Draco felt slightly better that he'd managed to annoy him. Their stare down was interrupted by Marconi, who barked at them from below.

"AGAIN!!!!"

The two of them instantly urged their brooms into flight. Draco raced to the other side of the pitch, before stopping violently as he reached the other end. Gunnar arrived at the same time, but much more effortlessly. He smiled smugly, which didn't improve Draco's mood in the slightest.  

"You were saying, Malfoy?"

Draco glared, before remembering he actually did want to ask him something.

"What did you want to tell me earlier?"

Unexpectedly, Gunnar's face lit up at the question.

"There's a Quidditch competition coming up. It's big."

Draco stared at him skeptically.

"How big?"

"Eight teams from eight different schools. Durmstrang's one."

Even though he was still a bit wound up, Draco found this very distracting. He was going to say something else, until he heard Marconi screaming at him.

"AGAIN!!!"

The two of them sped across to the other side, and the second he stopped moving Draco asked, "Where?"

"It's going to be held in Italy," replied Gunnar, "Rome specifically." 

"When?"

Gunnar shrugged, "Soon I guess."

"Soon?" asked Draco, expecting more of an answer.

"Soon," repeated Gunnar.  

Draco nodded, as he began to digest the information. This sort of explained why Marconi had become so rabid all of a sudden, and why Dimitar was acting so vicious. A thought suddenly occurred to Draco. Considering Durmstrang had four Quidditch teams, exactly, _who_ was going to Italy? It was on the tip of his tongue to ask Gunnar, before Gunnar countered with a question of his own.

"So… Monika hmm?"

Draco never saw _that_ one coming. 

"What?" he asked, taken aback.

"AGAIN!! BUT FASTER!!!!" roared Marconi.

Draco raced to the other side, before bringing his broom to a standstill.

"What about Monika?" he asked Gunnar suspiciously. Gunnar clucked his tongue.

"I've just heard talk."

Talk. Draco's mood worsened again.

"What _kind_ of talk?" 

"Just…Talk talk," answered Gunnar. 

"_Talk talk_," mocked Draco, using a falsetto voice. He rolled his eyes. Marconi hollered up at them for the fifteenth time and the two of them rushed to the opposite end of the pitch. As Draco hovered on his broom, he tried to steady his rising blood pressure. Unfortunately, that idea was thrown at the window due to Gunnar's next remark.

"Never would've guessed you liked that type, Malfoy."

Draco cursed himself for forgetting to bring his wand to practise.

"Still," said Gunnar lazily, as he stretched his arms over his head, "She's not a complete dog. I would've had a go if she wasn't a mudblood." 

Draco stared at Gunnar, disgust etched on his features. 

"Halfblood," he corrected.

"Eh," said Gunnar, shrugging it off. 

Draco stared at him disapprovingly. Suddenly his expression softened as a wave of curiosity washed over him. Interested in what Gunnar's reaction would be, Draco asked, "But since she's a… mudblood… you wouldn't…"

Gunnar looked appalled.

"That's a sick suggestion Malfoy."

It would be universally impossible for Draco to be any less surprised. Suddenly what Marconi told him yesterday didn't seem so nonsensical.  

"AGAIN!!!" screamed the Professor.

Gunnar instantaneously shot off on his broom. Draco, however remained where he was, deep in thought.

"MALFOY!!!" barked Marconi, "MOVE IT!!!"  

"Yeah yeah," sneered Draco, before urging his broom into flight.

When Quidditch practice finally ended, Draco finally managed to get to his room where he could relax and be by himself, which was a very good thing considering he was feeling rather hostile. It had been a long day and he was exhausted from having to deal with everything. As he lay down on his bed, he slowly began to nod off and by the time he awoke, night had long since fallen.

He arrived at the hall for dinner almost an hour late, but no one questioned him about it as he took his place at the table. He was fairly quiet as he ate, only joining in with everyone when they all laughed at Ivan for spilling his drink on himself and then falling out of his chair. Despite the fact he'd turned up so late, Draco managed to finish dinner before everyone else and left the group early. As he was leaving the hall, he spotted Dimitar sneering at him across from the hall. Draco was too busy shooting his own glare back at the Professor that he didn't notice someone else was heading towards the doorway.

"Oof!" said Monika, as she collided into Draco. 

Her eyes widened as she realised who she'd bumped into. 

"Oh! Um…sorry," she said, looking everywhere except at him. 

Neither of them moved for a second, until Monika sighed. Keeping her blushing head down, she spun on her heel and began to walk away. Draco glanced down at his arm, where they'd accidentally come into contact with each other. As he continued to look down at his robes, he called out to her.

"I got your letter."

Monika froze in her tracks. For a second she remained completely still, before slowly turning around and looking at his face. She stared at him for a while, studying his expression. But his face was stoic and unreadable. Resigned, she broke her gaze.   

"And?" 

"And… you don't know me at all," replied Draco. 

Monika didn't know what to say. She expected an answer like that, but the way he said it threw her off guard. It didn't seem mocking; he was simply stating the truth. Flustered, she blurted out the first thing that came to her mind, regretting it even as the words were still halfway out of her mouth.

"Well… do you?"

"…Only too well," replied Draco. 

Monika's face furrowed in confusion. Had his voice sounded… softer or was that her imagination? She couldn't tell, so she didn't question him about it. Then again, that might've only been due to the fact Nikolas suddenly appeared.

"Hello Draco…" he said, his voice fading as he caught sight of Monika. She offered a smile, but Nikolas only stared at her. Quickly casting a sideways glance at Draco, who was watching him carefully, he looked towards the staircase. Although he was avoiding looking at her, his face showed the smallest hint of guilt. Monika shut her eyes and took a deep breath. She turned to go and as he watched her walk away, Draco asked Nikolas,  "Something on your mind?"

Nikolas drew his mouth into a thin line and tilted his head towards Draco. His eyes were harder than usual. 

"Nothing I want to share."

Suddenly, he stalked past Draco, heading in the opposite direction that Monika had gone. Draco called out to Nikolas' retreating figure, not bothering to disguise his sarcasm. 

"_Oh no_. Was it something I said?" 

Nikolas still carried his reservations the next morning at Breakfast. He avoided Draco's gaze as Monika walked past the table, staring intently at his plate instead. Then all of a sudden, Nikolas sat straight up looking bewildered. 

"What's going on?" he asked looking at his suddenly empty plate. 

Suddenly the food vanished off everyone's plates, even if they weren't done eating yet. All at once, the hall was filled with startled cries.

"Hey! What's going on here?!" yelled Ivan. Pulling out his wand, he tapped the tip of it against his plate.

"Accio food!"

Nearly everyone at the table cringed at Ivan's feeble spell. But to their surprise, the plate started trembling and was surrounded by a faint light. Ivan grinned, eagerly anticipating the rest of his breakfast. His smile was wiped clear off when his plate flew off the table and hit him square in the face. The whole table simultaneously cracked up.

"SHUTUP!!!" yelled Ivan, rubbing his red face with the side of his arm. He huffed angrily.

"Wait 'till my family find out about this!!"

"Oh, I'm sure they can hardly wait," said Elisabet dryly, causing even more sniggering. However, the sudden sound of Vertov's stern voice caused everyone to momentarily forget about Ivan and their absent breakfasts.

"SILENCE."

The room was so quiet that if a pin had dropped, the sound would've echoed.

 "I have just received notice that early next term, the Ministry of Magic will be paying a visit to the school. As you are all aware, the Christmas holidays are coming up so I suggest that instead of idly wasting your days as per normal, you all use that time wisely to get your act together. Otherwise your return to school will NOT be welcomed."

Nearly half of the student body swallowed nervously.

"Secondly… those who play Quidditch will be interested to know that Durmstrang will be participating in the first ever Interschool Quidditch Challenge." 

Draco glanced at Gunnar, who couldn't look more pleased with himself. 

"It takes place in the fourth week of the next term and it is being held in Rome. Unfortunately, only one team from this school can attend." 

Vertov paused for a moment, before saying, "So to be _fair_, it's been decided that whoever wins the Quidditch final will be the team to go."

Draco and the rest of Cronus turned to glare at the members of Iapetus, who were shooting their own scowls back at them. Jordan and Gunnar were directing hostile glares at each other. The two teams had yet to meet, due to the fact that their match had been cancelled. The weather had been unbelievably fierce that day; the winds were almost blowing the stands over and the sleet had been so bad that it had managed to create dents in the metal. The rules unfortunately prevented them from using any magic to alter the weather, but when they had attempted to play the game, the Quaffle had been immediately swept away on a strong gust of wind and one of the beater's accidentally let go of his club, which then went on to almost behead the referee. 

In the end, the match had been called off and declared a tie. Neither team was particularly pleased about it, but then again neither were Hyperion and Crius. Despite their anger, not a single complaint was declared, due to the fact they didn't want to have to play a vengeful Iapetus or Cronus. The showdown between Durmstrang's top two Quidditch teams, however, was becoming more and more inevitable. And by a strange twist of fate, it seemed that they were set to meet in the finals.  

And now, the news of the tournament just took it to another level. 

Across the hall, Jordan drew his finger across his neck, as though he were slitting it, with his eyes never leaving Gunnar's.

Gunnar smirked, and imitated Jordan's actions before adding one of his own. Draco had to admit that the expression on Jordan's face at seeing Gunnar's middle finger directed right at him, was priceless. Jordan huffed before turning back to the front. The rest of Iapetus sent one final glare at Draco's snickering table before facing the front on the hall, where Vertov was still speaking.

"There will be more details next term, when the team has been decided. All in all," said the Headmaster grinning toothily, "It should make for one spectacular final."

He clapped his hands once and the food reappeared as though nothing had happened. As everyone began to finish off the rest of their breakfast, Draco couldn't help but think just how right Vertov was. 

      After that particularly eventful meal, Draco headed up the staircase to his next class. Waiting at the top of the stairs was Elisabet, leaning against the banister. She motioned for Draco to come over and as he approached her, he gave her the once over.

"How did you get up here so suddenly?"

Elisabet shrugged. 

"I move fast."

Then, as though she were proving her point, her hand whipped out and she grabbed him by the wrist. Draco was suddenly yanked forward as Elisabet dragged him away from the main staircase and down the corridor into the nearest classroom. Once inside, she shut the door behind them and let go of his wrist. Elisabet's behaviour had been completely unexpected by Draco, but now that he had control of all of his limbs again he took the opportunity to regain his composure. Glancing around the empty classroom, he smirked and said teasingly, "I hardly think the faculty would be pleased to find out if we were using this room for anything other than class activities."

"Even though you're very talented at it, I'd prefer if you didn't flatter yourself Malfoy," retorted Elisabet.

Taking a seat on a nearby desk, she leaned back on her arms, using them to support her weight. Draco wondered what exactly the girl was up to.

"So is Gunnar aware that you drag unsuspecting boys into empty classrooms?" he asked, folding his arms as he continued to taunt her, "Or is it another thing you keep from him?" 

Elisabet stared at him carefully, her head tilted to one side.

"Well, we do have to be careful who we _associate _ourselves with. Don't you think?"

He didn't have to ask whom she was referring to. Draco was almost impressed that Monika had managed to survive at Durmstrang for so long, with so many people against her. Elisabet had a haughty look on her face and her eyes showed an amused disappointment, almost as though they were saying, "I _can't_ believe you Draco. Honestly." 

Draco raised his eyebrows, shrugging off Elisabet's comment. In turn, she let out a short cynical laugh at Draco's lack of reaction.

"Oh Malfoy… Do you know what you're doing?" 

"Do you know that you're boring me?" mocked Draco. Elisabet just smiled sarcastically. With his patience running thin, Draco straightened up.

"I'm late for class," he announced.

With a disgruntled sigh, Elisabet rolled her eyes before taking her wand out. Flippantly, she recited a summoning spell and shortly afterwards, a small note pad and quill appeared. Sitting at the top of the paper was the school's insignia. 

"What's that?" asked Draco.

"A little something Damek gave me," replied Elisabet, the corner of her mouth slyly upturned,  "That boy is just wonderfully resourceful." 

Placing the pad beside her on the desk, Elisabet lightly took hold of the quill and pressed the nib against the parchment. 

"_Nota Bene_,"

She let go of the quill, and it magically remained perfectly upright. Rolling her neck to relax, Elisabet began to dictate and the quill copied it down. 

"To Whom It May Concern,

Please excuse Draco for his lateness. He was unavoidably detained after Breakfast, through no fault of his own, resulting in his delay.

Regards,

Professor LeCher."

"Professor who?" asked Draco, just as the quill stopped scratching against the paper.

"Divination teacher," said Elisabet.

Draco scoffed, "No-one's going to believe I would ever take THAT subject."

Elisabet glared at him, "Then… just say that she stopped you in the hall because she had a premonition. Make something up. Lie if you have to."

She tore the note from the pad, before walking over to him and slapping it against his chest. Reflexively, Draco placed his hand over hers. The two of them stood there, watching each other fixedly. Elisabet was the first to break away, briefly closing her eyes. When she opened them again, they glinted scathingly at him.

"I'm sure you know how to do that." 

She moved away, sliding her hand out from under his. Draco didn't move, until he heard the sound of the door close behind him as Elisabet left. His features began to form the beginnings of a scowl, irritated at Elisabet for questioning him like that. And even more irritating was the way she was getting to him. Again. 

It was pathetic. And Draco wasn't having it.

He straightened his expression out and took a deep breath. 

He glanced down and noticed he was still holding Elisabet's forged note against his chest. Taking a better look at it, he had to admit it was very good work, even by magical standards. Remembering what it was actually for, Draco smirked wondering how late he was for his next class, Apparition. Suddenly, he recalled Damek was in the same class. 

_"That boy is just wonderfully resourceful."_

Draco looked at the note with newfound interest, and for the first time in a while, the beginnings of a scheme began to form in Draco's head. Folding the note in half, Draco grinned maliciously. Turning on his heel, he exited the room quickly. He had a class to get to. 

**AN**- Oh man. It's finally up. It's kinda crap, considering how long it took. And it's subject to change depending on how the next chapter turns out.

But it's up! 

Thank you so much for your support. It's made me feel extremely… guilty. Quite honestly, I lost interest in the story and I forgot about the readers!!! O_o

But all the reviews _really_ helped out a lot and I'm going to keep slogging on until it's finished.

Special thank you to Caprrigrrl Lannoire who actually drew fan art for this little story. What a legend!


	10. To The Victor

For I Am A Wicked Child

Horseface

***Chapter Ten***

To The Victor 

Only one thought was on Draco's mind as he sat hovering on his broom.

It sucks playing Quidditch at Durmstrang.

True to form, the weather was horrible. The sky was dark from overcast clouds, not that the sun trying particularly hard to make an appearance anyway. Harsh gusts of wind blew in from every direction, making it hard to stay balanced especially when flying up at seventy feet in the air. And from time to time, there was an onslaught of rain and hail.

Fabulous weather for the semi finals. 

Unlike Draco, the rest of Cronus weren't particularly concerned about the lousy conditions. They were more preoccupied with other things, such as beating Crius into the ground. The score was currently 120- 10, to Cronus. And the one goal Crius has scored had been a fluke, as the Quaffle had been blown through one of the hoops by a strong blast of wind. 

When Zhivko scored another goal, bringing the lead up to 120 points, Draco wondered whether he should really bother chasing down the snitch. With a few more goals, Cronus would win the match either way. Draco glanced over at Crius' seeker who had been circling the pitch frantically for the past ten minutes, since capturing the small golden ball would be the only way that his team would be able to come back. Draco smirked as a bludger nicked the tail of the boy's broom, sending him spinning all over the place. 

The chances of Crius making the finals were none to… none.

Suddenly Cronus scored two more goals and as the seeker straightened out, he shook his head hopelessly while trying to catch his breath. Which was fortunate for Draco, because as the other seeker was busy feeling sorry for himself, he caught sight of the snitch. It was lazily fluttering on the other side of the pitch, not too far away from Crius' hoops. Grinning smugly, Draco urged his broom forward. The other seeker still hadn't noticed and as Draco whooshed past him on his broom, he gave him a sharp shove with the side of his body. It had been entirely unexpected, and the Crius seeker completely lost his stability. The sound of the boy's loud yelp as he fell towards the lake only encouraged Draco to speed up. 

As he raced towards the snitch, Anders appeared at his side with the Quaffle tucked under his arm. The two of them glanced at each other, their faces locked in concentration. Anders suddenly gestured for Draco to speed up with a quick upwards nod of his head. Draco gritted his teeth and drove his broom on harder. The snitch was still flying idly, almost floating even. With only a meter between him and the snitch, Draco readied himself. 

Suddenly Anders called out from behind him, "Draco!"

An underarm throw sent the Quaffle rushing towards him. Reacting instinctively, Draco twisted sharply on his broom. The tail connected firmly with the Quaffle, and as Draco closed his hand around the snitch, the Quaffle flew through the centre hoop earning another ten points. 

The Quidditch pitch was suddenly filled with a thousand cheers, as people in the stands and the other players on Cronus roared. Draco grinned. They were through to the finals. 

_"Pansy,_

_              All is well at Durmstrang. My team Cronus has made it to the finals, largely thanks to me. I was absolutely brilliant in the semis, it's a pity you weren't there to see it. By the time I get back to England for the holidays, I'll be known as the best seeker in the school. _

_       Draco."_

Draco laid the quill down on the desk and after one final read over, he placed the letter into an envelope and sealed it. As he began to make his way to the Owlery, he passed some players from Hyperion. They were talking between themselves and were far too troubled to notice Draco walking by. No doubt that it had something to do with their upcoming semi final against Iapetus. Dimitar had lengthened their practices by over an hour and was really pushing the team hard. Especially the beaters. Hyperion had no intention of making the final. They just wanted to make it through the game alive. Even though he loathed the idea of Iapetus winning, Draco didn't care much for Hyperion either and couldn't help smirking at the idea of all seven Hyperion players being shoved around the pitch. 

"Good luck for the semi's" drawled Draco as he passed them by.  

The Hyperion players glared at him angrily but without any real threat, knowing that they couldn't do anything to him. Draco smirked as he continued on his way. 

As he swaggered down the corridor, he caught sight of Gunnar, casually leaning against the wall. 

"Hey Malfoy," said Gunnar.

Draco replied with a quick raise of his brow. Gunnar noticed the letter he held in his hand.

"Who's that for?" he said, gesturing to the envelope with a nod. 

"No-one you know," replied Draco. 

Gunnar shot him an audacious look, as if to say "Oh… _really_?"

"Try me," he said, his voice laced with haughtiness.

"I'd rather not," said Draco.

That fake smile emerged again. 

Something softly brushed against Draco's sleeve. He turned his head to the side, where his grey eyes locked with Elisabet's green ones. Her fingers lingered for a second on his robes, before she walked over to her boyfriend. Gunnar wrapped his arm around Elisabet's shoulders, whispering into her ear while she reached up to hold his hand. Not having the stomach to tolerate such displays, Draco spun on his heel and began to walk off without so much as a word of goodbye, leaving the couple behind him. 

As he strode off, he glanced down at the letter in his hand, which now seemed like an unnecessary inconvenience. He considered burning it or using a returning charm or even just ripping it up, but he wasn't particularly tempted to do any of those; he had put in the effort of writing it and disposing of it would just make the letter a waste of time. Tapping the letter against one hand, Draco surveyed the corridor, wondering what to do. 

While his eyes roamed the hallway, he caught sight of a large old painting of the Durmstrang lake. Fog floated across the surface of the canvas, obstructing the castle and anything else of interest from sight. The glassy surface of the water was dark as usual. As Draco stared at the picture, he caught sight of an indistinct reflection in the centre of the lake. A pair of eyes, quietly watching him yet unaware he was looking back. For a moment Draco couldn't bring himself to look away, but the sound of approaching footsteps broke his concentration. Disregarding the painting, he noticed a couple of girls, probably 3rd years, coming his way. A sly smirk started to creep onto Draco's face, and he deftly sidestepped in front of them. 

"Hello…" he drawled.

The girls stopped and stared at him blankly, their surprise rendering them frozen. Finally, one of the girls managed to squeak something out.

"You're Draco Malfoy."

"Yes…" he replied. 

"The seeker for Cronus," continued the girl.

"That's right," said Draco with a slow grin. 

"Hi…" said the girl carefully, as though not trusting her voice. The other remained silent, simply staring at him. Draco mentally scoffed at the two of them, but kept up the polite façade, smiling graciously.

"…My apologies for interrupting you, but I'm somewhat new to this school and I was wondering if you ladies would be kind enough to help me out?"

Both of the girls' eyes widened, before they turned to look at each other in disbelief. When they looked back at Draco, they were both wearing warm smiles. 

"Sure Draco," said the girl from before. The other one still didn't speak. 

"Well…" said Draco, turning on the charm, "I have a letter I want to send, except the thing is I've completely forgotten where the Owlery here is..." 

"Oh, it's just at the end of the fourth floor and the 6th door on the right," replied the 'talking girl'.

"…Right," said Draco. Thinking quickly, he winced and added, "Oh no… I have that Quidditch final meeting with Marconi." 

Biting his lip as he pretended to be stressed, he lifted his head for a glance at the girls' reaction except he accidentally caught sight of the painting again. The shimmering water was still reflecting those eyes, but they seemed colder now, almost resentful.

"I guess I'll just have to send it later…" sighed Draco, "Which floor was it again?"

The two girls looked at each other, when unexpectedly the quiet one said "We can send it for you."

Draco smiled, "That would be great actually."

Handing the letter over, he told them to use his eagle owl. Both of them stood there staring at the letter in awe, until Draco cleared his throat and said, "Would you mind going now? It's somewhat urgent."

The girls nodded apologetically and soon scampered away to the Owlery. Draco smirked, pleased that he could manipulate those girls so easily. As he moved to turn away, his gaze once again fell upon the painting of Durmstrang lake. Like before, the eyes were still there, floating in the middle of the picture. Draco was completely still as he looked back at them. Those eyes were much deeper and mysterious than the lake that surrounded them. And much darker.

And then they were gone. 

Draco blinked, before registering the lake only consisted of water. A sense of unease spread through him, and he suddenly sought to get away from the painting. Turning away, he saw that Gunnar and Elisabet were still in the corridor, just beginning to leave. Draco paused, waiting for them to leave. 

"Malfoy."

"Damek…" said Draco. He stared suspiciously at Damek due to the fact he had appeared out of nowhere. 

"Where are you headed?" said Damek.   

"Nowhere in particular…" replied Draco, drawing out his answer. Damek nodded quickly, not really listening. If Draco hadn't noticed Damek's furtive glances, he would have believed the casual attitude Damek was projecting to be genuine. Inwardly grinning, Draco simply stood there as Damek became more agitated by the minute. 

"Shall we then?" asked Draco, making a sweeping gesture for the both of them to continue on their way.

"Yeahgoodidea," replied Damek, quickly.

Draco smirked and the two of them began to head off in a general direction. Several frantic teachers rushed past them as they sauntered down the hallways, but Damek didn't seem the least bit interested. Draco observed one of the teachers carrying a defensive spell book as he sprinted past the two of them. With a look sideways and a bemused grin, Draco remarked, "Been keeping busy Damek?"

Damek shrugged, "More or less." 

The two of them turned a corner in the hallway and entered the link to the dormitories. As they walked down the empty passageway, Damek suddenly remarked, "I've been thinking about what you said in class the other day." 

"…And?" asked Draco coolly. 

Damek stroked his jaw, "It's something."

"I know," said Draco.

Damek turned away and looked out of the link.

"Do you know how deep that is?" he said, gesturing towards the lake. 

"No sorry, I'm not cool enough to measure lakes," said Draco snidely, "Why do you ask?"

Damek frowned, "There's a reason that Durmstrang's lake is so vast you know."

"You're not actually worried are you Damek?" asked Draco doubtfully. When Damek didn't reply, Draco laughed and said, "Come on, this is going to be child's play for you." 

"If anything goes wrong…" said Damek, trailing off nervously.

"It won't," said Draco bluntly.

Damek raised his eyebrow questioningly, "With something like this, everything can go wrong."

Draco rolled his eyes, "Nothing will go wrong. I won't allow it."

Damek turned away and looked outside the link again, silently staring into the distance. 

"It better be worthwhile," said Damek.

"I never do anything that isn't."

The link was still as the two boys stood on opposite sides, both thinking of the same thing.

"All right. I'm in."

Draco smirked.

"Wonderful."

A few minutes later, Draco returned to the dorm, having parted with Damek. He passed Ivan in the common room, who gave him an obligated hello, which Draco didn't bother responding to. Entering his room, he was met with a chill of cold air and once inside, he got into bed trying to ignore the fact his room reminded him greatly of recent Quidditch conditions. As he wrapped himself underneath his covers, he heard the faint sound of talking outside, with the sound of footsteps following. They stopped outside his room, and Draco stared at the door guardedly; he had his wand at the ready in his right hand. Hexes were not required however, as the person outside the door suddenly moved on. Curious, Draco got out of bed and slowly opened the door. Peering out, he saw the back of Nikolas disappear into his room. Slowly, Draco relaxed and leaned on the door, before looking off towards the common room. Ivan was still sitting by the fireplace, throwing his wand up and down one-handedly. 

"What?" he asked, noticing Draco watching him. 

"What?" mimicked Draco.

Ivan sneered and went back to his wand throwing. Draco looked back down the corridor at the rest of the rooms. The door to Ivan's was open, and there was a faint glow coming from inside, catching Draco's interest. Leaving his doorway, Draco made his way down to Ivan's room; Ivan too self-involved to notice. Glancing inside, Draco saw the usual mess of clothes, parchment, sheets and general disarray he had expected to see, but also in one corner of the room there was a Quaffle-sized orb, with elegant gold flames flickering inside. 

A Bottled Flame. 

Draco scowled. To think, he had been freezing all this time when he should've just bought one of those. Even stupider to think that his mother used hundreds in her courtyard parties at night and here he was without one. He'd have to complain about that to someone. Draco pressed the tip of his wand against the side of the orb.

_"Nox."_

The golden flames slowly extinguished, and the glass became cool to touch. Draco tucked it under one arm and marched back to his room. Ivan still hadn't noticed anything as Draco shut the door behind him. Grabbing a quill off his desk, he used a basic transfiguration charm to turn it into a stand. As he carefully placed the Bottled Flame on the stand, he heard Ivan moving around in the common room. Draco held onto his wand, but Ivan was only moving towards the dorm entrance. Draco was surprised to hear the muffled sound of feminine voices at the door and for some reason felt compelled to eavesdrop. Quickly casting a spell that magnified his hearing, Draco began to listen to the conversation in the next room. 

"Is he here?" The voice belonged to a young girl, sounding somewhat nervous and somewhat familiar.

"What…Draco?" sneered Ivan, "…uh no. Haven't seen him."

Draco smirked at Ivan's response. Ironically, he was doing Draco a favour.

"Oh…" said the girl, disappointed, "Well… can you tell him we sent his letter for him?"

So it was the letter girls who had dropped by. Draco mentally congratulated himself for choosing girls with a kindness that he could exploit. Ivan scoffed at the two of them however. 

"Yeah, sure I'll get right on that," he said, before slamming the door into their faces. 

Ivan began to make his way to his room, while Draco removed the hearing charm from himself. It proved to be good timing, because no later was Draco's hearing back to normal when a great cry came from Ivan's room. 

"HEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Draco smirked to himself as expletives were omitted from the room down the hall. He gently tapped his wand against the orb.

_"Lumos."_

Strangely enough, Ivan never passed on the message to Draco about his visitors. Granted, that was probably due to the fact he had woken up sick with cold the next morning and had to go to the nurse. Ivan was not without company however. 3 of Hyperion's players were in the medical wing of Durmstrang, after being thrashed quite literally in the semi-finals. Iapetus' beaters had been the ones controlling the game, taking out the keeper in the first eight seconds of the game and allowing the chasers to wear out the Quaffle. With the final score at 320- 0, it was a game that no one on Hyperion was likely to forget.  And one that Iapetus wouldn't stop bragging about, much to the dislike of Cronus. Eight days away from the final, Draco was walking to his Illusionary Magic class, when he saw Nikolas up ahead of him, coming down from the floor above. On the stairway, Iapetus' seeker was bragging to some girls about the game. 

"… Well, it's really not something you can learn. Being a seeker is just a natural thing you know? Not everyone can do it."

"Like Radomir?" said Nikolas, suddenly interrupting the conversation, "Iapetus' original seeker and the guy you're just… filling in for?"

The seeker's face flushed a bright red, before turning sour.  

"Better watch what you say, Niko," he sneered, "or the only thing you'll be trying to chase is your pride after Iapetus kicks your ass."

Draco scoffed at the boy's lame attempt at a threat. Nikolas wasn't intimidated either. Taking a step closer, he took advantage of his taller frame to peer down at the boy.

"Is that so?" he asked slowly.

The seeker continued to stare back at him, despite showing signs of nervousness.

"Step back Nikolas."

 Nikolas turned to see a couple of Iapetus players descending the stairs, including Jordan. All of them were staring at him with hostility. By this time, the girls the seeker had been bragging to were long gone.

"All right Ant?" they said, as they stood beside him. Ant, the seeker grinned smugly and folded his arms over his chest. 

"Yeah. NOTHING to worry about."

"Are you so sure?" said Draco, coming up the stairs. A couple of the guys were thrown off, but did their best not to show it. Jordan stared back at the two of them.

"Yeah. I know it."

Draco was about to speak, but felt the presence of someone else move beside him. The Iapetus players turned to look at the newcomer with a glare.

""You actually know something Jordan?" taunted Damek, "Other than how to be an asshole?"

Jordan growled under his breath. The other boys took similar poses of threat, which neither Damek, Nikolas or Draco reacted to.

"You better get used to the cold boys. Because that's all you're going to be feeling for a week after we beat you," said Jordan.

"Don't Jordan. That doesn't work on us," said Nikolas, in contempt.

"You wait," piped up Ant, "You'll see."

Draco shook his head, "No we won't."

"Yes you will…" 

"Then why are you sweating?" interrupted Draco, "Worried all your talk won't be able to help you when you're floating face down in the lake?" 

He grinned maliciously.

"You should be." 

Draco took a defiant step closer to the Iapetus team.

"In a few days, you're going to know_ exactly _what losing is."

He turned to look at the rest of them.

"All of you."

The other boys continued to glare but did nothing. Jordan was the only one who made any movement, his eyes narrowing.

When he spoke, Draco expected a threat but there was none. Instead, Jordan replied with a weak, "Whatever," before walking down the stairs. The rest of the team followed, with Ant hazarding a backwards glance before scuttling off. 

The three of them stood on the stairs, watching them go. Damek looked at the other two and grinned.

"Well. Finals should be interesting."

AN. Been on hiatus for a while. I seriously thought about dropping the whole story, but I decided to continue even if no one reads. I was becoming addicted to reviews for a while, which is really not a good thing since it's much easier to write for me than for anyone else. That doesn't mean I don't appreciate them though! By the way if I previously wrote that Draco had blue eyes, could someone please tell me which chapter it was? I have this feeling that I did, but I can't remember where it was. 

* Draco's final threat is based on a line from Blade. 


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